


Love, Loss and Unexpected Friendships (About in That Order)

by Mademoisellesnowflake



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anne is so important, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I almost made this ot3 and tbh I could have lived with it, I have too many modern aus going on, I'll probably write a chapter 2 for this, M/M, Minor Character Death, My stories are always about Aramis, New Friends, Roommates to lovers, Trauma, You all know by this point it'll be about Aramis, omg now I actually want an ot3 what have I done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-01-21 20:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12464944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mademoisellesnowflake/pseuds/Mademoisellesnowflake
Summary: A murder has happened in the French Alps and one survivor has been transported to Paris to receive hospital care. D'Artagnan, the helicopter pilot who saved the man goes to check up on him and sets in motion a series of new encounters, friendships and even love.Who knew helicopter pilots could do all that?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this story was inspired by the sentence "d'Artagnan is a helicopter pilot" and as you can guess, my brain went wild. I will most likely write a chapter 2 for this someday because I have ideas but in the meantime I guess I will write some of my Merlin fics and study for my tests...
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy what I've written, I forgot everything I was going to write here, hehe

Charles d’Artagnan wasn’t an unusual sight at the Hôpital Cochin in Paris. He had begun visiting all the patients he’d been transporting with the helicopter team – or those who survived. The helicopter team usually transported people from extreme situations to receive hospital care but sadly some died on the way or when they were receiving treatment. René d’Herblay – the man who had been attacked at the Alps while on vacation with his wife – had been one of the lucky ones who survived and d’Artagnan was about to visit him. He was looking for the right hospital room as he saw the police captain, who was basically his uncle, exiting one of the rooms with a police offer.

“Charles”, the captain – Trèville – greeted and the other officer nodded in greeting. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just going to visit the patient my team transported from the Alps nearly a week ago”, d’Artagnan said. “I do that with all the patients my team transports. You just came out of his room in fact.”

“Oh”, Trèville breathed. “I have to warn you; he isn’t very well at the moment. We just informed him that his wife and unborn child were killed in the attack that wounded him. He looked like he’d lost everything; no one had even called his family after the attack so there is no one even to be there for him…”

“Poor man”, d’Artagnan said. “I’ll see what I can do for him…”

“You do that, boy”, said the dark police officer who was accompanying Trèville. “You do that.”

D’Artagnan looked at the two police officers walking away as he took a steadying breath. He remembered the wounded man’s weak cries for Isabelle as they were transporting him away from the bloodied murder scene at the Alps. He also remembered seeing a solitary boot but as they’d seen no one else, they’d only transported René away from the scene. D’Artagnan couldn’t help but wonder if they’d partially been the cause of Isabelle’s death.

D’Artagnan knocked and opened the door.

Inside the room he saw a man – René – sitting on his hospital bed and looking emptily at his left. D’Artagnan’s heart ached for the man; he looked exactly like someone who’d lost everything. His gaze was so empty and devoid of emotion that d’Artagnan couldn’t help but remember his father’s words. _Sometimes the world is breaking around you and you can only stare as everything slips away_ , he had said.

“Hello”, d’Artagnan said quietly. René turned to look at d’Artagnan in an incredible speed – d’Artagnan had probably scared the poor man.

“Who are you?” he asked hoarsely.

“I’m Charles d’Artagnan”, d’Artagnan said, “I’m the pilot of the helicopter that carried you away from the Alps after you were attacked.”

“Oh”, René said. “What are you doing here?”

“I usually check on the people we’ve transported with my team”, d’Artagnan explained. “I want to see how you’re doing and maybe help if you need me to help with anything. I can call your family; I heard no one had called them and you’d been all alone here.”

“But… why do you care?” René asked.

“Well… I want to know you’ll be alright”, d’Artagnan said. “And I think the idea of having to be all alone is just very sad. So, I guess I want to make sure people won’t have to be all alone.”

“But I’m all alone already”, René whispered angrily. “Isabelle is gone and so is our child and I’m stuck here because I wasn’t strong enough to fight back. My daughter never saw daylight because someone decided that Isabelle could not live!”

René’s face crumbled at the end of his sudden outburst. It looked to d’Artagnan as if he deflated as he curled into himself and began crying quietly. D’Artagnan rushed to him and collected him into an embrace, hoping that it would soothe the weeping man even a little. He was repeating Isabelle’s name as he cried and gripped d’Artagnan’s arm as if it was his last lifeline on this earth.

“Shh, René, you’re safe now”, d’Artagnan whispered as he rocked the man back and forth. “You’ll be alright; I promise you’ll be alright.”

René wept quietly. It seemed to d’Artagnan that all of his pain was slowly leaking out of him in the form of tears.

“It’s Aramis”, René whispered after he’d calmed down. “All my friends call me Aramis. Only my parents and sisters call me René.”

“Aramis it is, then”, d’Artagnan said, smiling a little. “Do you need anything? I can get you anything from the cafeteria if you need me to. Or I can call your family to let them know you’re here.”

“If you could call my family, I’d be eternally grateful”, Aramis said quietly. “I can give you my mother’s phone number since it seems my phone’s nowhere to be found…”

“That’s alright; I can do the calling and speaking”, d’Artagnan said. Aramis smiled and gave d’Artagnan the phone number which d’Artagnan typed into his phone.

“Should I tell her about your wife and child as well?” d’Artagnan asked.

“Do so”, Aramis said, closing his eyes. “I don’t think I could do it myself…”

“I’ll go outside to make the call”, d’Artagnan said. “I can go get you something from the cafeteria if you want?”

“I’d love a croissant, anything really”, Aramis said. “I’ll pay you back when I get out of here.”

“Hush, think of it as a gift to get you better”, d’Artagnan said as he left the room. He took a few steadying breaths before pressing the call button. A soft, yet worried female voice answered the call.

“This is Charles d’Artagnan speaking”, d’Artagnan begun. “I’m calling in regards of your son, René. He was discovered badly wounded in the Alps last week and he’s been transported to a hospital in Paris. I was just there to see him and since no one had notified you about this, I offered to call you.”

 _“He’s alive?”_ the voice breathed. _“Oh, thank heavens! Thank you for calling me. Can you tell me which hospital he is in?”_

“He’s in Hôpital Cochin”, d’Artagnan said. “You are Madame d’Herblay, are you not?”

 _“Yes”_ , the voice said. _“I am Diana d’Herblay. Can René receive any visitors?”_

“Yes, he can”, d’Artagnan said. “There’s just one thing; his wife Isabelle and their unborn child were killed. He’s been all alone for the day he’s been awake; I really think he needs you with him. Please come to see him.”

 _“Oh, dear God, no”_ , Diana breathed. _“Not Isabelle darling… We will come to see him tomorrow. Thank you for calling me and letting me know he’s still alive.”_

“That’s the least I can do ma’am”, d’Artagnan said. “I just want to know the people I’ve tried to save have someone to take care of them.”

 _“That’s so sweet of you”_ , Diana said. _“Thank you and goodbye.”_

“Goodbye, ma’am”, d’Artagnan said as the line went silent. He sighed and set out to the cafeteria to get Aramis something to eat. D’Artagnan guessed he hadn’t actually eaten anything since he didn’t seem strong enough to get out of bed just yet.

From the cafeteria d’Artagnan bought two chocolate-filled croissants and two cocoas, both for Aramis and himself. He then walked back to Aramis’ hospital room and saw him fidgeting with the corner of his blanket.

“They haven’t given you anything to do?” d’Artagnan asked. Aramis shook his head and sighed.

“All my books are either at my home or in my suitcase at the hotel in Alps”, Aramis muttered. “I really hope they haven’t just thrown my things away; I had my camera there…”

“I think your things might have been taken as evidence by the police”, d’Artagnan said, “but I can call the hotel and find out.”

“Thank you”, Aramis breathed. D’Artagnan smiled and placed the cup of cocoa and the chocolate-filled croissant on the small table next to Aramis.

“I got you some cocoa as well”, d’Artagnan said. “I can also get you a bottle of water later if you want to.”

“Thank you”, Aramis said, smiling sadly. “I’d love that.”

“It’ll be fine”, d’Artagnan found himself saying, not really sure why. “Believe me; you’ll be fine.”

* * *

The next time d’Artagnan saw Aramis was on the following day after d’Artagnan had called captain Trèville and found out the police had most of Aramis’ things as evidence. However, since most of them were useless, d’Artagnan could just fetch them in Aramis’ place. D’Artagnan had done so and was walking to Aramis’ room when he saw Athos, one of the surgeons of the hospital standing outside Aramis’ room.

“Athos?” d’Artagnan asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I should check on my patient”, Athos mumbled, “but there are _people_ in there.”

“Oh, Athos”, d’Artagnan laughed. “Just go in; it’ll be fine. You operated on Aramis?”

“You know him?” Athos asked.

“I piloted the helicopter that carried him here”, d’Artagnan said. “I talked to him yesterday; I think his family is there now. You should just go in; I’ll be right behind you.”

“Fine”, Athos grumbled. He opened the door and stepped in, followed by d’Artagnan. Five heads turned to look at them immediately and Athos gulped.

“I’m dr. de la Fére”, Athos said, “and I was supposed to check up on monsieur d’Herblay. You aren’t feeling any complications from the surgery, are you?”

“Surgery?” the older woman asked worriedly. “No one said anything about a surgery.”

“Mamá”, Aramis sighed from the bed. “I was stabbed in multiple areas; they at least had to sew the wounds close. And no, doctor, I’m feeling just fine. My left arm seems a little bit numb but otherwise I feel fine.”

“That’s odd; you weren’t stabbed anywhere near your left arm or the nervous system going into your left arm”, Athos mumbled. “Try to keep moving your left hand for a bit; maybe there’s a problem with blood circulation after you almost froze…”

“Could be”, Aramis said, grinning sheepishly. “What are you doing here, d’Artagnan?”

“I got your suitcase”, d’Artagnan explained. “The police had it as evidence but since nothing really helped them, they told me I could just fetch it for you. They took copies of your photos but the photos are intact in your camera’s memory card. They… they still have Isabelle’s things; they said you can go get them later.”

“I see”, Aramis said. “So, was there anything else, doctor?”

“Actually, yes”, Athos said. “You’ve been prescribed some heavier painkillers for when you’ll be well enough to get out of hospital. Also, you’ll have to take at least three months of medical leave. I know you’re a doctor as well and in your state you can’t work; you’ll need time to heal. Don’t worry, your employer has been notified; you’ll be on paid leave.”

“What will I even do for three months?” Aramis muttered exasperatedly.

“You’ll heal”, Athos said. “Which brings me to my last point; you’re advised to book an appointment with a psychologist since the situation you were in was a traumatic one. Don’t raise your eyebrows like that. You’re lucky to have escaped with so little damage to your body and the sooner you see a psychologist, the sooner you’ll be able to process what has happened.”

“Fine”, Aramis said. “Guess that can’t be helped.”

“Is there any way we can help?” the older woman – Diana, most likely, d’Artagnan thought – asked.

“You help him most by being there for him”, Athos said. “And not letting him carry heavy things.”

“Thank you, doctor”, said the old man – probably Aramis’ father, d’Artagnan decided. Aramis looked away, looking almost annoyed.

Athos nodded and left the room. D’Artagnan was about to leave as well but Diana stopped him.

“Thank you for calling me”, she said. “Is there anything we can do to thank you?”

“Ah, it’s quite alright”, d’Artagnan said. “I try to check on every patient I’ve transported to see if I can help them. Actually, if you could give this phone number to Aramis?” D’Artagnan fished a piece of paper from his pocket. “It’s the number of one of the officers; he thought Aramis should have someone’s number in case he remembers something about the attack.”

“I will”, Diana said. “Thank you.”

D’Artagnan smiled and waved to Aramis as he left the room. He really hoped Aramis would be alright.

* * *

Aramis had been dispatched from the hospital day before and he was sitting at his dining table, looking at the piece of paper that held the number of the police officer who had talked to him before the appearance of Charles d’Artagnan. The name written on the paper was Porthos – the name seemed so foreign to Aramis. He was debating whether or not he should call Porthos; he hadn’t technically remembered anything important, only a small detail from his last morning with Isabelle.

 _Damn it_ , he thought. _It might be important for the investigation._

Aramis typed the number into his phone and pressed the call button. It took only a few seconds for Porthos to answer the phone.

 _“Porthos du Vallon speaking”_ , Porthos said from the other end of the line. _“Who is it?”_

“It’s Aramis – I mean René – d’Herblay”, Aramis stammered. “I – uh – I remembered a small detail from the morning before Isabelle and I were… attacked. It’s probably nothing important but I thought it might help you with your investigation.”

 _“Oh?”_ Porthos asked. _“What did you remember? Do you want to come to the station to give us a statement or…?”_

“No, it’s fine on the phone”, Aramis stammered. “I just remembered that Isabelle had been angry because someone wouldn’t stop texting her. She said that someone had texted her the whole night and she couldn’t sleep because of it…”

 _“Yes, her phone was examined”_ , Porthos said. _“It seems like she may have had a stalker. Did she say anything about who it might have been?”_

“Not that I can recall”, Aramis said quietly. “I think she said the person might have been at the hotel at the same time with us… Maybe they somehow managed to get her phone number from the register?”

 _“Could be”_ , Porthos said. _“Thanks for calling me. Was there anything else you needed?”_

“Oh, I was wondering, when can I come get Isabelle’s things?” Aramis asked. “You know, I think I could give her cousins some of her things and I don’t know how long they want to stay in contact with me now that Isabelle is gone…”

 _“Oh, shit”_ , Porthos mumbled. _“I’m sorry; I don’t know. I can call you when I know.”_

“Thank you”, Aramis said.

 _“It’s no problem”_ , Porthos laughed nervously. _“Can I save your number? Is it alright if I save it under ‘Aramis’?”_

“Yes”, Aramis said. “It’s alright. Thank you, Porthos. I have to go now. Bye.”

 _“Bye”_ , Porthos said right before Aramis closed the line. He took a deep breath when the call ended and covered his mouth.

 _Fuck_ , Aramis thought. _Fuck, he’s hot._

Aramis stood up abruptly and grabbed his coat. He then grabbed his wallet, keys, and phone and put them into his pockets and then put on his shoes.

He was going to get absolutely wasted before he could develop a crush on the hot police officer. There was no way he was going to fall in love so soon after Isabelle. No way.

Aramis walked to the nearest respectable bar and ordered a drink. And another. And another. After the fourth drink, he noticed a beautiful blonde woman who had sat next to him.

“Hello”, the woman said. “You seem a little sad. What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s wrong”, Aramis muttered bitterly. “My wife was murdered a few weeks ago with our unborn baby.”

“I’m so sorry”, the woman said and placed her hand on his shoulder. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alive”, Aramis said and shrugged. “Anyway, who are you?”

“I’m Ana Castilla”, the woman said. “I moved here from Spain last year to marry someone but before we could marry, he decided to go after a younger woman.”

“¿Eres española?” Aramis asked. “That man must have been an idiot to leave someone as beautiful as you.”

“Sí. Y tú, ¿eres español?” Ana said. “I found out later that he’s an abusive bastard. Lucky for me, bad for the other woman.”

“Only half Spanish, I’m afraid”, Aramis said. “That’s rough.”

“Well, at least I don’t have a husband beating me”, Ana said. “Fancy a drink? I can buy for both of us.”

“Thanks”, Aramis said. “I can buy the next round for the two of us.”

“Sounds like a deal”, Ana said, smiling, and ordered two drinks for them. They soon got their drinks and toasted.

“For miserable lives”, Aramis said, making Ana chuckle.

“For miserable lives”, Ana said and clinked her glass on Aramis’. “I forgot to ask, what’s your name?”

“René, but everyone calls me Aramis which is my second name”, Aramis said. “Just call me whatever you like; I honestly doubt we’ll remember much from this night tomorrow if we keep on drinking like this.”

It was somehow comforting to think like that; to know that he would forget the pain from the night before with enough drinking. Just for a fleeting moment he thought that maybe he could forget the pain of losing Isabelle if he just drank long enough.

“Come over to my place later tonight”, Ana said suddenly. “I want company. I don’t want to spend the night alone. I’ve been all alone ever since that bastard of a man left me.”

“Sure”, Aramis said, shrugging. “I’d love some company as well; I just want to forget for one night…”

“That’s settled then”, Ana said. “One round more and then we go?”

“Yes”, Aramis said and ordered new drinks. For himself he ordered the strongest drink he could think of so that he would have no chance to remember what had happened that day. He couldn’t fall in love so soon after Isabelle.

He wouldn’t ever forgive himself if he did.

* * *

Aramis woke to the unrelenting sound of his cell phone ringing. He groaned as he realised that his head was pounding with ache. He looked at the screen of his cell and cursed – d’Artagnan was calling him.

“Hello?” Aramis said. He looked around in the room – not his room, he noticed – and his eyes fell on the beautiful woman lying next to him.

 _“Aramis, where the hell are you?”_ d’Artagnan asked. _“I’ve been ringing your doorbell for fifteen minutes and your phone definitely was not in your apartment when I called.”_

“I’m not home”, Aramis said. “I’m… at someone else’s home. Ana’s home.”

 _“Who’s Ana?”_ d’Artagnan asked. _“Should I come pick you up?”_

“I met her at a bar yesterday”, Aramis said as he sat up. The motion pulled at his stitches and he hissed. “That… rather depends whether or not I will find out her address.”

 _“You met her at a bar”_ , d’Artagnan repeated. _“You slept with her, didn’t you? I thought you weren’t allowed to do any strenuous activity.”_

“I didn’t realise it meant sleeping with someone”, Aramis muttered. “Why were you at my door, anyway?”

 _“I was getting you some food”_ , d’Artagnan said. _“And to check up on you. What were you thinking?”_

“I was going to get so drunk that I wouldn’t remember a thing”, Aramis told. “I met Ana, she wanted company and this happened. And I think I pulled some of my stitches. Do you think dr. Athos will kill me?”

 _“He won’t if I go with you”_ , d’Artagnan said. _“Text me where you are and I’ll drive by. Athos is going to have his lunch break soon; he can patch you up then.”_

“Will do”, Aramis said. “Bye.”

 _“Bye”_ , d’Artagnan said and the line went quiet. Aramis groaned as he got up and began gathering his clothes from the floor and bed and dressing up. He had a splitting headache and the way his moving pulled his stitches was almost agonising. When Aramis was dressed, he wrote a small note for Ana on a post it note and put it on her nightstand. He then slipped out of the apartment unnoticed and as soon as he found out what street he was on, he texted d’Artagnan.

* * *

“So what on earth possessed you to do this?” Athos asked when he saw the sorry state of Aramis’ stitches. He sighed and started working on replacing them while Aramis shrugged sheepishly.

“I… didn’t want to remember”, Aramis whispered and winced as Athos sewed new stitches. “And then she was there all of sudden, wanting company and I thought, why not.”

“Drinking won’t make you forget”, Athos said, “it’ll only make you miserable. Trust me, I’ve gone down that path and it almost killed me. I don’t want you going there too.”

“What does it matter to you?” Aramis asked, suddenly sounding unbearably young and bitter.

“You’re my patient”, Athos said. “And you’re d’Artagnan’ friend which means he won’t be bugging me as much as he used to when he can check on you and do all that friend stuff. And besides, I became a doctor to help people.”

Athos placed his hand on Aramis’ shoulder before continuing. Aramis avoided eye contact stubbornly.

“Have you contacted a psychologist yet?” Athos asked softly. “The way you’re going… It doesn’t look good to me.”

“I’m fine”, Aramis muttered.

There was a knock on the door which made Aramis jump. Athos cursed and walked to the door. He opened the door, revealing Porthos, the police officer, behind it.

“Hello”, Porthos said quietly. “I called about that report this morning; is it ready?”

“Yes, it’s on the table”, Athos said and turned to look back at the hospital bed Aramis was sitting on. “Don’t go anywhere yet, Aramis. You’re going to need some painkillers since you clearly have neglected your prescription.”

“Oh, hi”, Porthos said and waved at Aramis. “How are you doing, Aramis?”

“He slept with some unknown woman and pulled his stitches”, Athos grumbled as he rummaged through his medicine samples. “He’s lucky I haven’t admitted him back here yet. On top of it all, he’s neglected his medication and is in pain – don’t try to argue, Aramis, I know that look. D’Artagnan practices it on me quite regularly after his nights out drinking.”

“She was lonely”, Aramis mumbled. “She wanted company. And she wasn’t just some unknown woman; her name is Ana.”

Athos sighed and shook his head. He finally found the pills he’d been looking for and filled a cup with water so Aramis could swallow the pill. Aramis accepted the cup and pill and swallowed the medicine.

“I know this is a weird question”, Porthos said suddenly, “but does anyone happen to know where I could rent an apartment? My apartment building is getting torn down and I should find a new home soon so I won’t end up homeless.”

“There’s room in my place”, Aramis said. “As it happens, I’m living alone in a two-bedroom apartment. You could move there and pay a small rent if you want to. That is, if you don’t mind living with a bisexual man.”

“That… would honestly be amazing”, Porthos said. “I might have to transfer to another case, though… can I call you later tonight?”

“Sure”, Aramis said. “I probably won’t be anywhere else than my home. Especially now that Athos is practicing his death glare on me for not listening to him.”

“Great”, Porthos said. “Bye. Speak to you later, Aramis.”

“Bye”, Aramis whispered. Athos shook his head and sighed.

“You’re being impulsive”, Athos said. “I really hope your impulses aren’t self-destructive ones. You should really contact that psychologist.”

“I’m fine”, Aramis insisted quietly.

* * *

As promised, Aramis’ phone rang on that evening and the screen displayed Porthos’ number. Aramis picked up the phone from the coffee table near the sofa and answered it.

 _“Uh, hi!”_ Porthos said from the other end of the line. _“So, about that offer, were you honestly serious? I could live at your place for a small rent?”_

“Yes, that’s why I offered it”, Aramis said. “I’m forced to be on medical leave for three months; I would go mad here if I was all alone. Athos will have my head if I do any ‘strenuous activity’ and I would really appreciate company.”

 _“That’s great, honestly”_ , Porthos said. _“I won’t be allowed to investigate your case if I live with you so I’ll be assigned to another case but that’s just a minor issue; I’m so relieved to find a place to live in, honestly. When can I move in?”_

“The room is kind of full of other stuff”, Aramis said. “I’ll need your help moving it to the attic; you might want to take someone with you to help since I’m not allowed to lift anything heavy. You can honestly just come over whenever you have time and we can settle things and look over the things that need to be moved.”

 _“I’m free tomorrow”_ , Porthos said. _“I could come over then, if that alright with you?”_

“Sure”, Aramis said. “You could come over after midday, just call me whenever you’re coming.”

 _“I will”_ , Porthos said. _“Thank you, Aramis. You’re a lifesaver.”_

“It’s no problem, really”, Aramis said.

As it happened, Porthos did come over around midday, carrying some snacks for the two of them. Aramis had been organising the things in the free room so it would be easier to decide what he wanted to sell away and what he wanted to keep in the attic. When Porthos rang the doorbell, Aramis stood up from the floor where he’d been going through old photos, and walked to the door to greet Porthos.

“Sorry, my movement is a little bit limited at the moment”, Aramis said. “I really don’t want to awaken Athos’ wrath again so soon. Please come in.”

“Thanks”, Porthos said. “It’s a nice apartment. You own it?”

“Yes”, Aramis said. “It was one of the three houses that belonged to my grandparents. Me and my sisters inherited one house each after my father’s parents died. This is the smallest house they owned and it was just perfect for me and Isabelle…”

“I see”, Porthos said. “You still have a lot of Isabelle’s things?”

“Yes”, Aramis said. “Her parents died in an accident a few years ago and since she had no siblings, no one else has been there to inherit her things and since we were married, it all seems to have come to me…”

“I’m sorry”, Porthos offered quietly. “I can try to help to sort things out. Two pairs of eyes do a lot better than just one.”

“Thank you”, Aramis said. “Do you want any tea? Coffee?”

“I’m fine, thanks”, Porthos said. “I can help you moving things around a little and we can talk at the same time if that’s okay for you?”

“Sure”, Aramis said. “The room is a bit messy but you’ll get the general idea of the size and so on.”

“That’s good”, Porthos said. When they entered the room, he noticed the baby bed and couldn’t stop himself from gasping.

“It’s the cradle, isn’t it?” Aramis said, smiling bitterly. “I honestly don’t know what to do with it. On one hand, I want to keep it in case I ever get a child but on the other hand I just want to get rid of it because it reminds me of Isabelle and our little baby…”

“I’m so sorry”, Porthos breathed. “Maybe you could hide it in the attic and take it out when it’s needed again? That way you won’t have to see it but you’ll still have it.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea”, Aramis mumbled, running his hand absentmindedly over the edge of the bed. “Thank you.”

“I can ask my friend to come help me carrying things when you need me to”, Porthos said. “I’ll probably bring only a bed and some bookshelves here and if it’s alright, I’ll take my dining table and chairs to the attic.”

“That sounds good”, Aramis said. “We can change the curtains of the room, if you want to. The current ones are a little childish as you can see…”

“I have little darker curtains; I think I’d like to use them”, Porthos said. “I sleep easier with them because sometimes extra light really bugs me.”

“That’s alright”, Aramis said. “We’ll just take these curtains off then.”

“Yes”, Porthos said. “About the rent… how much would it be per month?”

“Oh, I was thinking of fifty euros”, Aramis said. “It’s just one room, after all.”

“Can’t it at least be seventy-five euros?” Porthos asked. “I feel like a robber for paying so little rent otherwise. And let me at least pay some of the water and electricity bills…”

“Are you sure?” Aramis asked. “The room isn’t that big…”

“Yes, I’m sure”, Porthos said. “Would it be alright if I moved in next weekend? My friend is free then and I really have to move out as soon as I can…”

“That’s alright”, Aramis said. “I’m sure I can clean the place up enough by then.”

“Just call me if you need any help”, Porthos said. “I can help now with some things if you need me to.”

“That’d be nice”, Aramis said, smiling sadly.

For the next few hours, Aramis and Porthos organised things in piles and chatted. Aramis found out that Porthos wasn’t really sure about his sexuality, liked jogging and was interested in cooking and trying out new recipes. Porthos found out that Aramis had almost become a painter instead of a doctor and that before meeting Isabelle, he’d been dating a boy called Marsac who’d been Aramis’ friend since middle school. Aramis told Porthos all the stories behind the photographs in the room and it seemed to Porthos that Aramis was happier than he’d ever seen the man.

In a few hours they were so hungry that they decided to have some of the snacks Porthos had brought with some tea. As Aramis began boiling water for the tea, Porthos noticed a small teddy bear on the kitchen counter next to the window.

“Was that teddy bear for your child too?” Porthos asked quietly.

“Yes”, Aramis said.

“How… how far was the pregnancy?” Porthos asked. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“The due date would have been… two days ago”, Aramis whispered and blinked his eyes, looking suddenly very lost. He then chuckled bitterly and said, “Sorry, it’s kind of still hard to grasp the whole thing. You think you’d be the happiest man in the world and suddenly it’s all taken away from you…”

“I’m so sorry”, Porthos whispered and put his hand on Aramis’ shoulder for support. “None of this should have happened. I’d change the past for you if I could, I really would.”

“Thanks”, Aramis whispered and swallowed against the lump that had formed in his throat. “I’ll just try to adjust the best I can…”

“I can try to help with that”, Porthos said softly, making something inside Aramis tingle hopefully. “You just ask and I’ll be there.”

“I will”, Aramis said, smiling softly. “Thank you, Porthos.”

* * *

Porthos did move in on the following weekend and soon he and Aramis fell into a routine. Porthos worked at the police headquarters, having been transferred to another case while Aramis took long walks and tried to adjust to his new life situation. Ana had called him a few times over the course of few weeks and they’d even gone out for coffee once, chatting their afternoon away.

So when Aramis got a teary call from Ana on one morning, he knew something was wrong. At first, he couldn’t understand what Ana was saying but after she had taken a few deep breaths, her words hit Aramis with full force.

 _“I’m pregnant”_ , Ana whispered. _“I’m pretty sure it’s yours because I haven’t slept with any other man in months.”_

“You’re pregnant”, Aramis whispered, sitting down on one of the chairs in the kitchen. “Oh, God, no…”

 _“What do you mean ‘no’?”_ Ana asked, laughing wetly. _“This is fantastic! This… I’ll be a mother finally!”_

“Yes”, Aramis breathed weakly as it dawned to him that Ana had been crying out of happiness. “I… I’ll call you later. Can’t really speak now. Bye.”

Aramis ended the call and grabbed the teddy bear that had been sitting on the kitchen counter. He could distantly feel that his breathing was too fast and that he really, really should slow it down. All he could do was to sit and let out short, wheezing breaths as his brain refused to process the terrifying prospect of having impregnated another woman.

He knew he should slow down his breathing, he knew he was having a panic attack; he just couldn’t do a thing to calm down.

“Breathe, Aramis”, Porthos’ voice said softly as strong hands guided Aramis to lean forward. Porthos’ soft, kind voice talked to Aramis, slowly guiding him to breathe deeper, to let go of the panic.

“Everything’s alright”, Porthos breathed and wrapped his strong arms around Aramis, pulling him into a hug. “You’re safe, Aramis. See? Everything’s fine.”

That broke the dam. Tears gathered into Aramis’ eyes and rolled out, falling on the small teddy bear Aramis was still holding in his hands. Quiet sobs shook him as he leaned his forehead on Porthos’ wide and safe chest.

The teddy bear looked at Aramis with its dark eyes as he cried for Isabelle and the daughter he’d never really had as her life had ended before it could even begin. He cried for the little soul that had never been able to see daylight, to be loved. At that moment, Aramis felt like the pain would never end, that he’d forever live with the ghost of what he’d lost, of what could have been but never had.

Porthos was murmuring sweet nothings into Aramis’ hair and rubbing comforting circles on his back. His breath was warm and kind and the motion his hands made comforting.

“It’s alright, Aramis”, Porthos breathed. “Everything’s alright. I’m here.”

Aramis let out a shuddering breath as he nodded. He bit his lower lip as he contemplated whether or not he could look Porthos in the eyes after the embarrassing outburst.

“What happened?” Porthos asked softly. “Did something set you off?”

“You remember Ana?” Aramis asked, pulling away from the hug and Porthos nodded. “She’s pregnant and she’s fairly certain the baby is mine…”

“But isn’t that good?” Porthos asked.

“Good?” Aramis repeated, letting out a laugh that bordered on hysterical. “With my track record, that’s pretty damn bad, Porthos! What if she gets hurt, what if the she loses the baby? I can’t subject another woman to that kind of pain; I just can’t do it, not after Isabelle…”

Aramis was breathing harshly and was tugging his hair with both of his hands by the end of his outburst. Porthos sighed and covered Aramis’ left hand with his right hand.

“I can’t tell you it’ll be alright”, Porthos said, “because so many things can go wrong during a pregnancy. But I can tell you that I’ll be here for you throughout it all and that whenever you need support, you can find it right here from me.”

Aramis nodded, not trusting his voice. Porthos smiled and moved his hand down Aramis’ arm, rubbing some warmth on it but stopping midway through. Aramis felt like someone had dropped ice on his stomach as Porthos frowned and pulled down Aramis’ sleeve, revealing angry red scars covering Aramis’ arm.

“Aramis”, Porthos said, “did you do this to yourself?”

“They’re old”, Aramis whispered hastily. “I did it only once or twice; I’ve stopped doing it.”

“Aramis, some of these are new”, Porthos said. “Some of these look like they’ve been done yesterday. You didn’t stop doing it, did you?”

“I…” Aramis breathed, trying to think a way to get out of the situation. “It hurt so much… I couldn’t not do it…”

“You never saw that psychologist, did you?” Porthos asked and shook his head. “We’ll go see a doctor now. You’re obviously not well.”

“But I’m fine”, Aramis insisted weakly.

“You’re in a mental state where you’ve hurt yourself”, Porthos said. “You’re far from fine. I want to help you. Please let me do so.”

Aramis nodded, biting his lower lip. He stood up shakily, letting Porthos lead him out of the kitchen and into the living room where he waited on the sofa while Porthos made a phone call, making a doctor’s appointment for Aramis. When the call ended, Porthos sat down next to Aramis and grabbed his hand.

“I got you an appointment for two hours from now”, Porthos said quietly. “Doctor Lemay is a good doctor specialised in mental health and he’s helped a lot of police officers facing trauma; I believe he’ll be able to help you as well.”

“But I’m not facing trauma”, Aramis protested.

“Aramis, you lost your wife and unborn child”, Porthos said. “If that’s not traumatic, I don’t know what is. If we put that into perspective, it’s probably the worst thing that has happened to you, isn’t it?”

“Yes”, Aramis whispered. “Yes, it is.”

“That means there’s no shame in going to see a doctor because that must have been traumatic”, Porthos said. “You don’t have to suffer alone. I’ll be here for you and I believe that so will d’Artagnan and Athos too.”

Porthos noticed Aramis rocking back and forth when he was finished with his sentence and sighed. He wrapped his arm around Aramis’ shoulders and pulled Aramis into a half-hug, letting Aramis lean his head on his shoulder.

“We would have named her Louise or Hélène”, Aramis whispered. “Hélène was the name of Isabelle’s mother; we thought that it would have been a good name for our daughter…”

“So, you knew it was going to be a girl?” Porthos asked softly, playing with Aramis’ curls.

“Yes”, Aramis said, smiling his now very frequent sad smile. “We would have made Sofia her godmother and let Mercedes teach her to draw and paint.”

“She would have been very loved with your family”, Porthos whispered. “I’m sure that wherever she and Isabelle are right now, they are loved and safe.”

Aramis nodded and closed his eyes. He took Porthos’ hand in his and softly squeezed Porthos’ fingers.

“Tell me if I’m being too pushy”, Aramis murmured. “I’m pretty tactile and some people find it weird. Marsac especially found it weird when I hugged him after we broke up… I guess men aren’t very used to being hugged and so on by other men in general.”

“It’s alright”, Porthos said quietly. “I like hugs.”

“Good”, Aramis said.

* * *

Doctor Lemay was incredibly patient with Aramis, or so Aramis thought. He let Aramis explain what had happened to him and how it had affected him and asked questions when some things seemed unclear. He didn’t press when Aramis had trouble explaining and let Aramis have his breathers.

“It seems that what happened caused you to develop depression”, doctor Lemay said. “And you might be developing PTSD as well. I’m going to prescribe you one sort of antidepressant and write you a referral to a psychologist for an evaluation so we can begin treatment. You should begin the prescription as soon as you can and mind you, it’s a trial prescription. If the medicine makes you feel weird, you should book an appointment so we can find you a more suitable one.”

“It’s… it’s that easy?” Aramis asked. “All I really need is some medication and therapy?”

“Well, if you’re lucky, it will be easy”, Lemay said. “But the mind is a tricky thing and sometimes the most common treatment doesn’t work. If that’s the case, we just have to work to find the most suitable treatment for you. The recovery may take years but I’m confident you can make a full recovery, as long as you believe in yourself.”

“That… sounds very exhausting”, Aramis said.

“Oh, it will be”, Lemay told. “But having a network of people who can support you even on your lowest moments is very helpful. I take it you already have some people like that?”

“I… Yes”, Aramis mumbled. “I think I do.”

“That’s good”, Lemay said and wrote something on the computer. “Your prescription is online and you’ll be able to get the medicine in any bigger pharmacy. I’ll also print the prescription and referral on paper so you can read the details whenever you need to. If anything is unclear, call the clinic and we’ll figure it out. I’ll write you the numbers of few phone hotlines where the people are trained to work with people with mental illnesses.”

“Alright”, Aramis said. “So, I’ll book an appointment with a psychologist or what?”

“Ah, no”, Lemay said. “The referral has been sent to the clinic front desk. The nurse there will book your appointment as soon as she sees it and you will be notified via e-mail and a text message of your appointment.”

“I see”, Aramis said. “So… that’s it, then? I get my medicine and therapy and try to recover?”

“There’s a little more than that”, Lemay said, tilting his head. “You’ll have doctor’s appointments every few months so we can monitor your recovery and take blood tests to make sure the medicine works for you.”

“That sounds good”, Aramis said and stood up. “Thank you, doctor.”

“See you in few months”, Lemay said. “And hopefully you’ll be well on your way to recovery then.”

“Yes”, Aramis said and left the room. He walked back to the waiting room where he was greeted by Porthos who stood up as soon as he saw Aramis.

“So, how was it?” Porthos asked. “What did he say?”

“We have to drive home via a pharmacy”, Aramis sighed. “He thinks it’s depression and wrote me a trial prescription as well as a referral to a psychologist.”

“I’ll drive”, Porthos said. “Is the pharmacy near the hospital alright?”

“I think so”, Aramis said.

The drive back home was quiet; Porthos was thinking of how to best help Aramis recover while Aramis was trying to understand the soft tingling in his chest and the reason his knees suddenly felt oddly weird. He glanced at Porthos and the tingling grew stronger, feeling like his heart wanted closer to Porthos.

 _Oh_ , Aramis thought. _I guess I did fall for him after all…_

Aramis looked at Porthos, imagining how it would feel running his hand through Porthos’ thick curls. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling a little; the idea felt so absurd and so good.

“What’s got you smiling there?” Porthos asked when he noticed Aramis’ smile.

“I was thinking of happy thoughts”, Aramis said. “I didn’t know I had any of them left…”

“They’ll come back to you”, Porthos said with certainty in his voice. “I believe they will.”

“I hope so too”, Aramis said. “I think I’ll take a walk when we get home. I need some time to gather my thoughts.”

“Will you be fine on your own?” Porthos asked.

“I will be”, Aramis said. “I just need some time alone. I promise to come back home.”

“Okay”, Porthos said as he pulled up at the parking lot. They both got out of the car, Porthos getting back to the apartment and Aramis setting out, walking away with no exact direction. At some point he realised his legs had carried him to a children’s playground and he sat down on one of the benches.

“Are you here with your family too?” a kind voice asked. Aramis turned to look at the direction of the voice and saw a man sitting in a wheelchair, leaning slightly in Aramis’ direction.

“No”, Aramis said quietly and shook his head. “My wife and daughter – they died.”

“I’m sorry”, the man breathed. “How… how old would your daughter be?”

“If she’d been born in time, five weeks and two days today”, Aramis said, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “They… my wife was murdered before she could give birth to our daughter and our baby… she died with Isabelle…”

“Oh god”, the man said. “That’s horrible… How are you doing?”

“Not very well”, Aramis admitted. “I… I miss my wife terribly and yet I’m finding myself falling in love with another. I already told myself that I wouldn’t forgive myself if I fell for someone again this soon…”

“Ah, but you see, love is the best healing force in the world”, the man said, smiling kindly at Aramis. “Love is what heals us and what keeps us going. Love is what gets me out of bed every morning so I can see the happy faces of my darling Agnès and little Henri. I don’t think you should be angry at yourself for loving. I think you should love with all you have so that you may heal from your loss.”

“But Isabelle”, Aramis said, “won’t it be like forgetting her?”

“Oh, no”, the man said. “I think you should remember her but at the same time, I think you shouldn’t stop yourself from loving. Tell the person you love about your feelings. Who knows, maybe they return your feelings.”

“Well it can’t go much worse than my life has gone lately”, Aramis said and stood up. “Thank you. I hope you and your family will be blessed with happiness.”

“I hope the same for you”, the man said. Aramis nodded and left the playground, intent on walking back home. The man’s words played in Aramis’ head as he walked. Having suddenly been granted the permission to love Porthos by a complete stranger had opened his eyes. He did not want to forget Isabelle but he knew that he was ready to try to love again.

As Aramis walked up the stairs in his apartment building, his heart beat twice as fast as it normally did. He was going to confess his feelings to Porthos and not even his terrified heart couldn’t stop him. As he opened the door, he couldn’t help but smile as he saw Porthos sitting on the sofa and reading a book, concentrating deeply.

“I’m home”, Aramis called as he took off his coat and shoes and put them into their place in the hallway. “I… I have something to tell you.”

“Go ahead”, Porthos said as he moved so Aramis could sit next to him on the sofa.

“I think I love you”, Aramis told. “I know it’s very soon after Isabelle and honestly, I’m not sure what’s going on in my head with all this happening but I know I have feelings for you. I will understand it completely if you find it awkward to live here with me and there will be no hard feelings if you decide to move out. I just hope we can stay as friends at least.”

“Oh”, Porthos said, sounding surprised. “Well, that was a bomb. I… I’m actually pretty bad with feelings; I’m not very good at recognising them. I think I do feel something for you, though. I don’t usually develop feelings for people very fast but there definitely is something; you feel kind of special to me.”

Aramis looked at Porthos’ eyes. They were so very soft and kind that Aramis’ heart made a double-backflip. Porthos smiled as he cupped Aramis’ cheek and slowly ran his thumb along Aramis’ cheekbone.

“Can I kiss you?” Porthos asked quietly. Aramis nodded and Porthos leaned in for the kiss.

The kiss was kind, almost questioning. Porthos’ hand was tangled in Aramis’ curls while Aramis was clutching the cloth on Porthos’ sleeves. Porthos tasted of mints and something sweet Aramis couldn’t quite pinpoint. Aramis felt light-headed and elated at the same time as Porthos broke the kiss and began pressing small kisses along Aramis’ jaw and cheeks. Aramis chuckled and pulled Porthos into a hug.

“I love you”, Aramis whispered.

“I think I love you too”, Porthos said, stroking Aramis’ back. “Let’s take this slow, okay? I don’t want to hurry into anything either of us might not be ready yet. I… I’ve never been with a man before.”

“Okay”, Aramis said, nodding against Porthos’ shoulder. He could honestly live with that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild chapter two appears! :D This one is even longer than chapter 1 (wow) and a lot is going on
> 
> Please enjoy

Calming Aramis down when he was having a panic attack had been easy in Porthos’ opinion. However, it soon became clear to him that absolutely nothing could calm Aramis down as Ana was giving birth. Aramis was basically vibrating, both with excitement and fear as he waited for any news, for good ones in anticipation, for bad ones in fear. Porthos really couldn’t blame him; having lost his wife and unborn child had made Aramis prone to anxiety, especially in situations involving new-born babies and pregnant women – or giving birth, it seemed. Porthos was holding Aramis’ hand as he trembled while waiting for the news.

“It’ll be alright”, Porthos whispered and rubbed Aramis’ knuckles with his thumb. “Ana is strong. It’ll be fine.”

“I know”, Aramis breathed. “I just can’t stop worrying…”

Porthos smiled at Aramis who continued looking around the room and bouncing his leg – his nervous habit he couldn’t stop in times of high stress. Porthos was holding Ana’s bag of essentials they’d grabbed before driving Ana to the hospital. Ana had been staying in Aramis’ apartment for the time being as they’d decided that it’d be better in case the waters would come out suddenly and she’d needed to be driven to the hospital. Porthos had been home when the waters had broken and had driven Ana to the hospital after having texted Aramis and told what was happening. Aramis had come running to Porthos as soon as his shift had ended; he’d been working and was eternally grateful that Porthos had driven Ana to the same hospital he was working in.

“I never realised that the maternity ward was this big”, Aramis whispered. “I almost got lost looking for you…”

“It’s because you’ve never had to be here”, Porthos said and brushed some hair away from Aramis’ eyes.

“I never understood how stressful this is”, Aramis whispered. “How on earth did my parents manage having three children? I’m already a wreck and I don’t even have a child yet.”

“You’ll do fine”, Porthos said, smiling and patting Aramis’ shoulder. “Waiting is usually the hardest part and you’ve been doing it so wonderfully well already.”

Aramis nodded shakily and squeezed Porthos’ fingers. Porthos smiled and noticed that the door to the delivery room opened and a nurse stepped out, smiling.

“Monsieur d’Herblay?” the nurse asked. “The delivery was a success. You can go see them soon; mademoiselle Castilla and your son are waiting. They’re being transported to a regular room in the ward right now.”

“Thank god”, Aramis whispered and seemingly deflated back into the chair he’d stood up from. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

The nurse smiled and left the waiting room after she’d given Aramis the number of Ana’s hospital room. Aramis and Porthos stayed at the waiting room a little bit longer, Aramis laughing weakly as the relief settled in.

“I have a son, Porthos”, Aramis whispered, smiling excitedly.

“Yes, you have”, Porthos said, smiling softly. “Shouldn’t you go see them?”

“Yes”, Aramis breathed and stood up shakily. Porthos chuckled and stood up as well, placing his arm around Aramis’ waist to steady him. Together they walked down the hallway and soon reached Ana’s room.

“Go in to see your son”, Porthos said. “I’ll wait outside for a moment and then join you two – I mean you three.”

Aramis nodded shakily and opened the door. He stepped inside the room and saw Ana on one of the beds, cradling a small bundle on her arms. He walked to the two very quietly and sat down on one of the chairs just next to Ana’s bed.

“Hey”, Aramis whispered. “You did it.”

“I sure did”, Ana said, laughing weakly and brushing the bundle’s cheek. “Can you hold him for a little?”

“Sure”, Aramis said and took the baby in his arms. He yawned at Aramis when Aramis finally got a good look of his face, making Aramis chuckle softly.

“Hello there”, Aramis whispered, smiling at the baby who had decided to catch Aramis’ finger and study it a little bit closer. “I’m your father and I honestly can’t believe this is true; I was so afraid of even the thought of having children…  I’m so happy to finally see you.”

Aramis turned his face away from the baby and coughed a few times. He also blinked his eyes and for a moment his expression looked to Ana like he would start crying then and there. At that exact moment, Porthos walked in, smiling at the trio.

“Hey there”, he whispered and sat down on a chair next to Aramis. “He looks very peaceful.”

“He does”, Aramis whispered, sounding very stuffed. “Do you want to hold him?”

“Yes”, Porthos said and took the little bundle in his arms. “Have you decided a name for him yet?”

“We were thinking about calling him Philippe”, Ana said. “That’s the French version of my brother’s name since we thought it’d be better to use the French writing.”

“That’s a good name”, Porthos said. “Hey there Philippe. I’m Porthos and that man next to me is your father whom I love very much. He’s a little bit clumsy with feelings and forgets to take care of himself but I’m sure he’ll be a great father and shower you with love. And you’ve seen your mother already, haven’t you? She’s pretty amazing; she carried you for nine months so be good to her, will you?”

Philippe yawned again and moved his arm, like he was trying to catch something. He then smiled at Porthos and giggled a little, obviously liking the way Porthos was talking to him. Porthos was slowly rocking him and humming a tune from an old children’s song.

“You’re really good with children”, Ana said, smiling at the sight. Aramis was still too preoccupied on keeping his emotions at bay to say anything so he just gave Porthos a small smile.

“Well, I grew up with my cousins ever since my mom went missing”, Porthos said, “and my uncle got a few children after I moved to him so I’ve been surrounded by babies. My oldest cousins have children too so I’ve been babysitting them ever since they were born… I guess I just like kids.”

“You certainly are good with them”, Ana said just as Philippe’s face scrunched up and he began crying. “Oh, dear, he must be hungry”, Ana said and sighed. “Can you give him to me?”

“Sure”, Porthos said and walked to Ana so he could carefully place the little bundle in her arms. She cooed at the baby while Porthos sat down next to Aramis, holding his hand.

“I think I should get Aramis back home”, Porthos said suddenly. “We’ll come to see you two tomorrow and maybe even bring Athos with us; he works here as well.”

“Okay”, Ana said and then said to Philippe, “Say bye-bye to papá, Philippe. You’ll see each other again tomorrow.”

“Bye”, Aramis whispered and waved at the two before leaving the room with Porthos. Porthos had his hand on Aramis’ shoulder the whole walk to the car, as if he feared Aramis would not make it without his support.

The drive back home was quiet. Aramis was smiling a little excitedly but there was also fear in his expression. Since Aramis had been the youngest in his family, he had no real experience with babies and Porthos could only imagine how terrified Aramis was – he had not slept much during the last two weeks of Ana’s pregnancy and it was showing. There were dark circles under his eyes and he’d lost some weight. Porthos hoped Aramis would be able to sleep the night now that Philippe had been born and he and Ana would get back home soon.

When the two finally got home, Aramis almost collapsed on the hallway floor as his legs couldn’t carry him any longer. Porthos kicked off his shoes and moved to help Aramis up and into the living room where he could sit on the sofa.

“I have a son”, Aramis whispered, smiling softly. “I have a small, lovely son.”

“Yes, you do”, Porthos said as he sat down next to Aramis and wrapped his arms around him. “You have a beautiful son who, in the future, will become as handsome as you. You’ll be a great father.”

“But how?” Aramis whispered. “I have no idea how to raise a child. What if I hurt him?”

“I’ll help you”, Porthos said and kissed Aramis’ temple. “I was just told I’m good with children. I’ll help you and Ana, so Philippe will grow up into a fine man. Or woman if he’s trans.”

“Thanks”, Aramis whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too”, Porthos whispered into Aramis’ hair. “You want some of the leftover spaghetti from yesterday?”

“I’d love some”, Aramis said. Porthos smiled and got up to prepare a small dinner for himself and Aramis. He was soon ready and carried two plates into the living room, so he and Aramis could eat there. Aramis was partially leaning on Porthos when they ate, drawing some strength for himself.

“Do you think I’ll get better by the time to see him grow up happy?” Aramis whispered after he was done eating. “Do you think I’ll be able to make him happy even if I’m not?”

“Getting better from depression might take years”, Porthos said slowly, thinking his words through, “but I believe Philippe will grow up happy since he has someone as strong as you for father. And I’ll be there for you and him through it.”

“Thank you”, Aramis said, hugging Porthos. “That means so damn much to me, really. You’ve helped me so much and I haven’t given you anything back.”

“Oh, but you have”, Porthos said and kissed Aramis’ temple. “You’ve given me your love and a place to live in. You’ve opened up to me even during you darkest moments. That’s not something many people have the courage for.”

“I don’t feel very brave, though”, Aramis muttered. “I’m beat. I’ll probably go to sleep as soon as I can get up.”

“I’ll just clean up and join you”, Porthos said. He stood up and helped Aramis to stand before gathering the dirty dishes. He cleaned up while Aramis brushed his teeth and set an alarm for the morning. When Porthos finally came to the bedroom, Aramis was already on the bed, facing the window. Porthos got onto the bed, laying down behind Aramis and wrapped his arms around Aramis for a hug.

“How are you feeling?” Porthos asked softly.

“Excited and terrified”, Aramis mumbled. “I’m not sure, honestly. I thought I’d wear myself off by now so I could sleep. Could you… Could you do the thing where you massage my wrists? They feel kind of weird.”

Porthos sighed and held Aramis’ wrists as he began massaging them with his thumbs. “Kind of weird” meant that Aramis was feeling the urge to possibly hurt himself and that was usually Porthos’ cue for cuddles to distract Aramis.

“I thought you were feeling better?” Porthos whispered as Aramis began relaxing.

“I was”, Aramis breathed. “I don’t know what brought this on…”

“It’ll pass”, Porthos whispered. “I’ll be here for you. Right behind you, ready to catch you if you fall.”

“Thank you”, Aramis whispered and took Porthos’ hand in his, placing it over his chest. Porthos kissed the back of Aramis’ neck and smiled.

They’d get through everything together.

* * *

Philippe and Ana got home two days later, and their life fell into a new rhythm. Ana and Philippe slept in the spare room Porthos had originally rented while Porthos slept with Aramis in Aramis’ double bed. Sometimes Aramis or Porthos slept in the living room with Philippe so that Ana could sleep a full night’s sleep. Whenever Aramis or Porthos had a free day from work, they spent time with Philippe so that Ana could either sleep or have some alone time.

“So how are Philippe and Ana doing?” Athos asked during their lunch break one day. “You look rather tired.”

“They’re fine”, Aramis said. “Philippe is growing fast. I swear, Porthos is the only one who gets enough sleep these days.”

“You wake up every time Philippe cries?” Athos asked, smiling sympathetically.

“Pretty much”, Aramis said. “I’d rush to him even if it wasn’t my turn to look after him for the night but Porthos keeps telling me to sleep. I don’t understand how some people sleep when there’s something so small that need their help…”

“That means you care for him”, Athos explained. “Please try to sleep. He’ll be properly looked after even if it’s not you who’s taking care of him.”

“I’ll try”, Aramis said. “Would you and d’Artagnan care to come over for dinner some day? We were thinking with Porthos and Ana that it’d be nice for Philippe to see more people than us three. My parents will come over on next weekend; would that be good for you and d’Artagnan too?”

“I think it will”, Athos said, “at least for me. Just text me and d’Artagnan to see if we both have days off then. I want to see you and Porthos more anyway.”

Aramis chuckled and said, “You’ve made friends, Athos.”

“Whatever you may think of my social abilities, Aramis”, Athos said, “I still do want some human contact. And since you and Porthos are a bit calmer than d’Artagnan, I think you’re both good social contacts. Especially because you know sign language, so I don’t have to talk all the time.”

Aramis grinned and signed that Athos could just sign instead. Athos snorted and ruffled Aramis’ hair when they heard footsteps approaching the break room.

 _Be silent_ , Athos signed as the footsteps got closer and the door opened. It revealed Constance Bonacieux, one of the more experienced nurses in the hospital and the recipient of d’Artagnan’s affections, who yelped as soon as she saw the two silent doctors.

“Stop doing that, boys!” she chastised the two. “I’ll get a heart attack if you continue this.”

“Sorry, Constance”, Aramis said sheepishly. “Do you happen to be free on the weekend? I just asked Athos and possibly d’Artagnan to come over for dinner and to see my son; would you like to join up?”

“Absolutely”, Constance said. “I’d like to see your family finally. I see no reason why I should mope around at home anymore.”

Constance’s husband, Jacques had died during the spring Aramis had been recovering from the attack. They’d been about to divorce when it had become apparent that their marriage would not hold. One night when Jacques had been returning home during a bad rain, he’d slipped on a wet train platform and he’d fallen down onto the tracks, breaking his neck. Constance had been heartbroken as she and Jacques still had loved each other; they just hadn’t suited each other.

“Shall we say Saturday at one in the afternoon?” Aramis asked. “That’s when my parents and possibly my sisters come to visit as well.”

“That’s a deal”, Constance said, smiling broadly. “Should I bring some food? I could bring some cheese.”

“Sounds good”, Aramis said. “I’ll cook something. See you then.”

Aramis stood up and left the break room. On his way to his office, he texted Ana and Porthos, telling them he’d invited Athos, d’Artagnan and Constance to come over on the following weekend. He felt warm in his chest when he thought about his family and friends finally meeting Philippe. He couldn’t help but smile – he and Ana had been thinking about who to ask to become Philippe’s godparents and they’d decided to ask d’Artagnan since he’d helped Aramis to his feet and had also been helping Ana to find new friends in France. There would be no one better than d’Artagnan to handle the role; animals and small children loved him. As Porthos would hopefully be something of a second father to Philippe, they’d decided not to make him Philippe’s godfather in the end.

Porthos soon texted back, asking if they’d need to bring down the extra table from the attic if there were going to be so many visitors. Aramis realised that they’d definitely need the table downstairs as well as Porthos’ spare chairs and sighed. He no longer had to rest but sometimes lifting heavy objects still pulled his scars, hurting him. He would just have to grit his teeth during the carrying process.

The few days before the weekend were over in what felt only like a moment. Soon it was Saturday, and Aramis was preparing snacks for all the people who would visit them that day as well as the small dinner they’d have with Porthos, Ana and himself.

“Calm down, Aramis”, Porthos said when Aramis arranged the chairs again for what seemed like the hundredth time. “They will not judge you for the interior design. They just want to see you and Philippe. I bet Mercedes has been missing you a lot since she can’t just drive here from Lyon every day.”

“I know”, Aramis muttered. “I just seem to be stressing about everything nowadays. For some reason I feel like I must be perfect in everything, and like otherwise I’d be nothing…”

“You are already perfect as yourself”, Porthos said, cupping Aramis’ cheeks and resting his forehead over Aramis’. Aramis placed his hands over Porthos’ hands and sighed as Porthos kissed his forehead and pulled him into a hug.

“Please talk about those feelings of yours with your therapist”, Porthos said quietly. “They might be another symptom and I don’t want you feeling like you should be more than you already are.”

Aramis nodded and blinked when he felt Ana’s hand on his back. They stood like that for a moment, drawing strength from each other as they waited for the first guests to arrive. When Porthos pulled away from the hug, Ana placed a small kiss on Aramis’ cheek and squeezed his fingers.

“It’ll be alright”, Ana said. “You’ve done well here.”

“Thank you”, Aramis whispered. Ana smiled and walked back into the living room to look after Philippe. Porthos stayed with Aramis a little bit longer, holding his hand.

“It’ll be fine”, Porthos said. “You can retreat into the kitchen if it becomes too much for you.”

“Yes”, Aramis muttered. “I’ll be fine.”

Soon the doorbell rang, and Aramis went to open the door with shaking hands. His family was behind the door and Oscar, Aramis’ father, pulled Aramis into a bone-crushing hug as he walked in. The others hugged him as well, telling him how they’d missed him.

“You better have cooked something good”, said Sofia, Aramis’ oldest sister. “I just sat on the backseat with Mercedes for over an hour and I’m starving.”

“I made some snacks for everyone”, Aramis said quietly, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I’m not too sure how good it is; I kind of made it in a hurry…”

“If done by you, it must be good”, Mercedes said, smiling kindly at her younger brother. “I would trust your cooking skills anywhere. Now, where is your little son and his mother? I would very much like to meet them finally.”

“I hope it’s as good as you believe”, Aramis mumbled. “I’d hate to let you down. They’re in the living room with Porthos.”

“That’s where we’re going then”, Mercedes said. “Come on, Sofia. Let’s give René some space.”

Sofia grumbled a little but after putting her coat and shoes away, she followed Mercedes. Aramis’ shoulders slumped, and he leaned on the wall and ran his hand over his face.

“Are you feeling alright?” Oscar asked quietly.

“Yes”, Aramis breathed. “For a moment it felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen but I’m fine now…”

“Tell us if you don’t feel fine”, Diana said. “We’ll help.”

“Thanks”, Aramis whispered, “I will.”

“Now, please introduce us to your son”, Diana said, smiling kindly. “I very much want to meet him.”

“You will soon”, Aramis said, trying to smile. He walked into the living room where Sofia and Mercedes were already cooing at the baby who was held by Ana. Philippe was very interested in Sofia’s necklace and was trying to catch it.

“Be careful, Sofia, or you’ll lose your necklace”, Aramis said. “As you can see, you’ve already found Philippe and Ana. And this –” Aramis walked to Porthos “– is Porthos, my partner. Or boyfriend if you prefer that.”

Aramis looked around the room a little defiantly. Ana had instantly accepted Aramis and Porthos and their relationship, but Aramis wasn’t so sure about his family. His father had been a priest and was maybe the most religious in the family. They had all accepted Mercedes’ girlfriends when she’d been younger but there was a small seed of doubt in Aramis’ mind that kept telling Aramis his family wouldn’t be so accepting with Porthos.

“Well damn”, Sofia said. “I was half hoping to seduce him myself.”

“Sofia, that’s not polite”, Mercedes quipped. “You can’t try to steal someone’s boyfriend from them.”

As the sisters bickered, Oscar smiled at Aramis and Porthos.

“I kind of guessed it from the way you acted when we last met”, Oscar said. He’d been helping Aramis and Porthos arrange the cradle and some other safety gadgets for Philippe a few days before Philippe’s birth. “You were somehow so intimate that I could instantly see there was something between you two.”

“And you don’t mind?” Aramis asked quietly.

“Why would I?” Oscar asked. “I knew about you and Marsac even though you tried to hide it and we’ve accepted Mercedes liking women as much as men – probably even more than she likes men. If you’ve found love and are happy with it, I have no right to go against it.”

“Oh, thank god”, Aramis breathed as he sat down on the sofa right next to Porthos. Porthos wrapped his arm around Aramis’ shaking shoulders as Aramis took in a few steadying breaths.

“Is something wrong?” Oscar asked softly.

“He’s been pretty much on edge all morning”, Porthos explained. “He said he’s been feeling like he’s not enough…”

“Oh, René”, Oscar sighed. “I’m sorry you have to feel like that. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not right now”, Aramis whispered. “It’ll be fine later, I think. I just need some time…”

“Then you should take your time”, Oscar said, smiling kindly. “We’ll wait for you.”

Aramis nodded, not trusting his voice. Porthos gently massaged Aramis’ shoulder with his thumb and Aramis leaned on Porthos for strength.

Soon the doorbell rang again and Aramis almost fled the living room so he could open the door. At the door were Athos, d’Artagnan and Constance, all three carrying some sort of gifts that were apparently for Philippe.

“Is everything alright?” Athos asked when he noticed Aramis’ shaken look. “You don’t look too well.”

“I’ve just been a little stressed, that’s all”, Aramis said. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, once I sleep well.”

“If you don’t feel well, tell Porthos or me”, Athos said. “We’ll figure out something to help you.”

“And don’t hesitate to ask for our help”, d’Artagnan said. “We’ll come to your help if you need us. Probably even if you didn’t.”

Aramis nodded and led the newly arrived trio into the living room. They greeted everyone and began chatting with the group. Athos got along with Mercedes very quickly while Constance and Sofia were already deep in a conversation about nephews and food. D’Artagnan was talking with Diana while Oscar was talking with Ana while letting Philippe chew on his finger.

The rest of the evening passed quickly. It was soon dark and the guests began leaving. When everyone had left, Ana and Porthos went to the kitchen to warm up the small dinner Aramis had prepared while Aramis stayed in the living room, holding Philippe. His left arm was propped up on the armrest of the sofa and Philippe was comfortably on that arm. Aramis was leaning on his side so that he was almost on the armrest himself, looking at Philippe and smiling fondly at him. He was stroking Philippe’s cheek and singing quietly to him.

When Ana walked into the living room to set out a few dishes for eating, she noticed that Aramis had fallen asleep on the position he’d been holding Philippe in. She smiled and took a few photos of the scene with her camera that had been on the living room table.

“Porthos”, Ana called quietly. “Come here. Look.”

Porthos walked into the living room as well and couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He walked to kneel down right next to the sofa and kissed Aramis’ hair before starting to wake Aramis up. When Aramis woke, he couldn’t recognise Porthos at first but when he did, a soft smile spread on his face.

“Hey there”, Porthos whispered. “Dinner’s ready, darling. Didn’t you sleep enough last night?”

“I guess I stressed too much”, Aramis said as he sat up. Philippe squirmed in his arms and Ana rushed to take him.

“Here, let me take him”, she said. “Hey there, Philippe. I’ll put you down on the playing mat for a bit so that papá, Porthos and I can eat our dinner. I’ll take care of you tonight, my little one.”

“I’ll get the dinner here”, Porthos said. “You two stay here. You’ve worked hard today.”

Aramis smiled at Porthos’ retreating back. He was feeling very warm and happy and hoped the feeling would stay with him for a long time.

* * *

It wasn’t until sometime after Easter that Ana moved back into her apartment. Philippe was already learning how to sit up and form short words like “mamá”, “papá” or “’tho”, of which the last one was most likely short for Porthos. Philippe still stayed some weekends over at Aramis’ apartment and the room Porthos had originally rented was now converted into Philippe’s room while Porthos lived in Aramis’ room. They were still taking baby steps in their relationship and would sometimes accidentally embarrass themselves rather thoroughly but later laugh at whatever had made them so embarrassed.

Years passed, and Philippe grew. To him both Porthos and Aramis were his fathers and he would call Porthos “my Porthos” in kindergarten, which made Aramis laugh every time. Philippe loved singing and trying to play Aramis’ guitar so Aramis started to explain the basics to Philippe when he was about three years old. Philippe was also very good at drawing and Aramis kept hanging Philippe’s drawings on the walls. (Porthos thought it was very sweet and complimented all the drawings Philippe made.)

Aramis would visit Isabelle’s grave every year on the anniversary of her death and stay very quiet for the whole day. Porthos would usually try to distract him with cuddles and some cake and very soft and passionate kisses.

A few weeks before Philippe turned five, Porthos got a phone call. Right after the call he texted Aramis.

 **Porthos [16:28]**  
Can you come to Hôpital Saint-Louis after work?  
I need you there  
They found my mom

Aramis’ heart almost jumped to his throat when he read the message. He knew how sore spot Porthos’ mother had been for Porthos and if she’d truly been found, he could only imagine how happy and scared Porthos must have been at the same time. He looked at the clock and cursed; he still had half an hour until he could leave and the drive to the hospital Porthos mentioned would take another half an hour.

 **Aramis [16:31]**  
I’ll come as soon as I can  
I may take over an hour  
Hang in there, okay?

 **Porthos [16:33]**  
Yeah  
Thanks

Aramis bit his lip. He could almost see that Porthos was a wreck and Aramis couldn’t even help him. His heart ached for Porthos, lost and alone in an unknown hospital. Aramis set out to work so he could leave even a moment earlier. He continued writing the report and checking the prescriptions for his patients so that there would be no mistakes and no patients without the prescriptions they needed. All that time his mind was on Porthos and how Porthos was dealing with the situation.

When Aramis was done with his work for the day, he closed the computer and gathered his things in a hurry and almost ran to his car. He wouldn’t waste even a minute getting to Porthos even if it meant breaking a few laws. Porthos needed him and so he was going to be there for Porthos.

When Aramis was getting closer to the hospital, he texted Porthos, asking him to come near the main entrance so Aramis wouldn’t get lost searching for Porthos. Porthos texted back soon, telling Aramis that he was waiting at the main entrance. Aramis smiled and started to look for a place to park his car in. When he finally found a good spot, he parked his car and ran to the hospital. He soon spotted Porthos and ran to hug him.

“I’m here now”, Aramis whispered. “It’s alright, darling, I’m here now…”

Porthos didn’t answer; he only hugged Aramis tight. Aramis could feel him trembling and hear his uneven breathing. Porthos was on edge.

“Have you seen her yet?” Aramis asked quietly.

“No”, Porthos whispered. “They’re still examining her… She has some problems with her kidneys. That’s how they found her; she’d gone to a hospital and her blood type and fingerprints matched with her files in the database…”

“Then should we go back where you’d been waiting?” Aramis asked softly. “I’m sure she’ll want to see you too when they let you in.”

“Yes”, Porthos said quietly. “That’s a good idea. Let’s go.”

Porthos led Aramis to a small waiting room near one of the examination rooms. One of Porthos’ cousins was sitting there, and she jumped up to hug Porthos as soon as they walked in.

“Have they asked for anyone yet, Sacha?” Porthos asked.

“No”, Sacha said. “How are you feeling?”

“Confused”, Porthos mumbled. “A little bit angry too, I guess. She was alive this whole time but wouldn’t come back.”

Aramis squeezed Porthos’ shaking hand. He couldn’t help but feel how his heart broke for Porthos who must have felt so abandoned and alone at that moment.

“There must have been a good reason for it”, Sacha said. “Maybe someone was not letting her go.”

“Yeah”, Porthos mumbled. “Maybe.”

Porthos and Aramis sat down at the corner of the waiting room, Porthos leaning heavily on Aramis for emotional support. Aramis rubbed Porthos’ back and shoulder and hummed whatever songs came to his mind so that he could soothe Porthos. Porthos was looking forlornly somewhere far away, no doubt lost in his own memories. Sacha was looking worriedly at Porthos and at some point, Aramis noticed that Sacha had the exact same nose and eyes as Porthos.

“Is Porthos du Vallon here?” asked a young voice that belonged to a tiny nurse. “The doctors would like to see you concerning the condition of your mother. Alone, if you please.”

Sacha and Aramis had both stood up and had been about to follow Porthos, but the nurse’s stern look had made them sit down again. Porthos followed the nurse with shaking legs while Aramis and Sacha stayed back and worried.

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” Aramis asked quietly.

“I hope so”, Sacha muttered. “I honestly never imagined that aunt Marie would resurface… we’d all accepted her death and now she’s suddenly alive. I can’t imagine what Porthos must be feeling…”

“Me neither”, Aramis said. “I hope whatever’s wrong with her kidneys isn’t bad.”

“Me too”, Sacha said. “Me too…”

In the end, Porthos talked with the doctors for almost half an hour. When he finally returned to the waiting room, his face was pale and expression unreadable. He hugged Aramis as soon as he reached him, not saying anything about his mother’s condition.

“Can we go home, Aramis?” Porthos asked quietly. “I don’t want to be here right now…”

“Of course we can”, Aramis said. “We can buy some fast food and stay home for tonight.”

“Sounds good”, Porthos said, laughing wetly. “Sounds really good. You came with your car, right? I left mine at the station so can we use yours?”

“Sure”, Aramis said. “We can drive by that pizzeria you like.”

“That’s a deal”, Porthos said and turned to look at Sacha. “We’ll go now. I’ll call you when I know more about this whole… deal.”

“Okay”, Sacha said, smiling sadly and squeezing Porthos’ arm. “It’ll be fine, one way or another.”

“I hope so”, Porthos said. He turned and led Aramis back to the main entrance where Aramis began leading Porthos to his car. They held hands during the whole walk and Aramis talked to Porthos softly about anything that came to his mind to distract him. When they finally got to the car, Aramis opened the door for Porthos before getting on the driver’s seat.

“So, what kind of pizza will you have?” Aramis asked as he started the car.

“Something simple”, Porthos said. “I just want a lot of cheese and maybe some artichokes.”

“That sounds good”, Aramis laughed. “I’ll probably take the same one. Do you want anything for dessert? There’s a small _boulangerie_ near that pizzeria; I could run over to buy something sweet while we wait for our pizzas…”

“Sounds like a plan”, Porthos mumbled. Aramis smiled and soon pulled over near the pizzeria he and Porthos had been talking about. They got out of the car and walked inside the pizzeria where they made their orders and before Porthos could even think of finding his wallet, Aramis was paying for the pizzas.

“These are on me”, Aramis said. “You need food and cheering up and I want to provide them both because I may not be able to help your mother much. I at least want to help you.”

“Thank you”, Porthos whispered and hugged Aramis. “I… thank you.”

“It’s nothing, really”, Aramis said. “Will you wait here while I run over to the _boulangerie_? I’ll get something sweet for us and then come back here.”

“Okay”, Porthos said. “I’ll get our pizzas if they’re ready before you come back here.”

“Okay”, Aramis said and gave Porthos’ cheek a little kiss before heading off to the _boulangerie_. He decided to buy two chocolate breads because they were Porthos’ favourite and because chocolate never failed to lift Porthos’ spirits. He was soon on his way back to the pizzeria when he got a text from Porthos saying that the pizzas had been ready and that Porthos was waiting at the car. Aramis smiled and instead of going back to the pizzeria, he walked straight past it and to the car that had been waiting a short walk away from the pizzeria.

“You were fast”, Porthos said as Aramis arrived at the car. “The _boulangerie_ must have been very close.”

“It was”, Aramis said as he and Porthos got into the car. “I got us some chocolate bread, your favourite.”

“What a feast”, Porthos said, an almost-smile on his lips. “Pizza and chocolate bread with you.”

“Sounds like a good evening to me”, Aramis said. “How are you feeling?”

“Scared and still rather confused”, Porthos said. “Mom might need a kidney transfer and in that case I’ll be the donor. As for why she’s been missing, they didn’t tell me… She just walked into a hospital in Marseille one day and I don’t understand why she never came back to me… I know it’s probably just the lonely 5-year-old in me talking but I’m actually almost angry because I’d already thought I’d lost her and now I might lose her again because of the reason she was originally found.”

Tears had sprung into Porthos’ eyes as he had been speaking and he tried to hide them by looking outside of the window, head turned away from Aramis. Aramis could hear from Porthos’ shaky breathing that the tears were most likely falling, which made Aramis’ heart ache for Porthos.

“I think it’s alright to be angry”, Aramis said quietly. “You’d been lonely and alone without a parent and even though your uncle’s family was loving, it can’t have been the same as having your own mother look after you. Nobody has the right to tell you that you shouldn’t be angry. I can only imagine how angry and scared you must be; if I’d lost my mother and she suddenly came back with a possibly deadly disease, I’d be scared too. Feeling these things is what makes you human and no one should hold that against you.”

“I just… I think I’m just very scared of rejection from her”, Porthos whispered. “I think I could handle her dying but knowing that she’s alive but doesn’t want to see me… That’s just too much. My uncle has been just fine with me not being straight, but I just don’t know if mom will be or not…”

“I can’t imagine her rejecting you”, Aramis said, placing his hand on Porthos’ shoulder for the short moment of stopping in red light. “Separation does wonders, really. I think your mother will not even imagine rejecting you even if you’d committed a murder.”

“That’s a relief”, Porthos said and laughed wetly. “Thanks, Aramis; that made me feel better. I think this whole situation is fucking up my feelings right now.”

“I can’t even imagine how you must feel”, Aramis confessed. “I’m just glad I can make you feel better even a bit.”

“You sure did”, Porthos said, wiping his eyes. “God, I’m starving; I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

“We better hurry home, then”, Aramis said. “You need food.”

Later that evening, when Porthos and Aramis were home and done eating, they simply lay on the sofa, Porthos’ torso propped against Aramis’ chest and Aramis leaning on one of the armrests while playing with Porthos’ hair. Porthos was almost asleep, relaxed by the sensation of Aramis’ hands in his hair.

“We used to watch TV like this with mom”, Porthos said quietly. “I’d be on her lap and she’d play with my hair while I watched the cartoons…”

“That must have been nice”, Aramis said, smiling. He leaned forward and kissed Porthos’ forehead.

“I just remembered it”, Porthos said softly. “I… I don’t remember that much of her, to be honest.”

“Then you must treasure that memory”, Aramis said. “And when your mother is better, you can make new good memories with her.”

“I love your confidence about this”, Porthos whispered, “because whatever I do, I can’t be confident about this. I just can’t.”

“I’ll just have to convince you and support you, then”, Aramis said, smiling fondly at Porthos. Porthos grinned and kissed Aramis.

* * *

As it turned out, Marie-Cesette indeed needed a kidney transplant and Porthos was the most fitting person for that. The surgery was scheduled a week after Philippe’s fifth birthday so that Porthos could celebrate it without fear of complications. One morning Aramis drove Porthos to the hospital before going to work and on the same evening he got a happy call from Sacha who told Aramis that the surgery was a success and that there should be no complications.

On the following day, Aramis decided to visit Porthos and his mother. He bought some flowers and brought Philippe with him to the hospital. Philippe had drawn get well cards for both Porthos and Marie-Cesette and was eager to give them to the two.

“Is Porthos’ mom my grandma?” Philippe asked as he followed Aramis in the hospital hallway. “If Porthos is my baba, is his mom my grandma?”

“I think we should ask her”, Aramis said. “She can be if she wants to be.”

“I hope she wants to”, Philippe said.

They soon reached Porthos and Marie-Cesette’s hospital room and Aramis knocked on the door. Before anyone could answer, Philippe had already thrown the door open and was running to Porthos who’d been reading to pass the time.

“Look who’s there!” Porthos laughed as Philippe jumped on one of the visitor chairs. “Did you come with papá?”

“Yup”, Philippe said. “Papá brought some flowers and I drew you and your mom get well cards.”

“Did you now?” Porthos asked. “Then I have to get well fast. Can I see my card?”

“Yes”, Philippe said and fished the small drawing from his trousers’ back pocket. “Here. There’s you and papá in the card and then I drew a bike and a dog because there was so much room left. And there’s one of the fast trains you showed me last summer.”

“That’s a great drawing”, Porthos said. “You’re becoming good at drawing.”

“He is”, Aramis said as he sat down on the chair next to Porthos’ bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Kind of lopsided”, Porthos said, grinning. “And I still feel a bit dizzy after the anaesthesia. But otherwise I’m happy.”

Philippe had decided that Porthos and Aramis were boring and had walked to Marie-Cesette who’d looked at the exchange curiously. They had begun talking and Philippe had given her the remaining get well card where he’d drawn Porthos and a lot of flowers.

“I’m happy that the surgery went well”, Aramis said and leaned forward to kiss Porthos’ forehead and Porthos seized the opportunity to pull Aramis down for a kiss. Aramis had to grab the edges of the bed so that he wouldn’t fall all over Porthos. Porthos chuckled deep in his throat and wrapped his arms around Aramis’ back.

“Don’t mind that”, Philippe said to Marie-Cesette. “Papá and baba act sometimes kind of weird. Mamá says it’s because they love each other.”

“I think they’re rather sweet”, Marie-Cesette said, smiling softly.

“God, I’ve wanted to do that since yesterday”, Porthos said as Aramis finally pulled away to breathe. “I’m so happy to be here with you. I can’t wait to get out of here and have a massive party.”

“I’m sure you’ll be out of here in no time and then we can celebrate the successful surgery”, Aramis said. “I think I should introduce myself to your mother finally.”

“You do that”, Porthos said. Aramis smiled and walked over to Marie-Cesette’s bed and lifted Philippe down from the lone chair.

“I’d like to talk with Marie-Cesette for a moment, Philippe”, Aramis said. “Why won’t you go talk with Porthos, so he won’t be lonely?”

“Okay”, Philippe said and rushed to Porthos’ side. Aramis sighed and then smiled at Marie-Cesette.

“Sorry about that”, Aramis said. “My son gets a little over-excited sometimes. I’m Aramis and as Porthos has probably told, I’m his partner and we live together at the moment.”

“Ah, no need to be so formal”, Marie-Cesette said. “You can call me Marie. Now, Porthos told me you’re a doctor, is that correct?”

“Yes”, Aramis said. “I work at Hôpital Cochin; one of our friends is also a doctor there, another works as a nurse.”

“That’s very nice”, Marie said. “And you play guitar, don’t you? I’d love to hear your playing one day.”

“Ah, I’m not that good”, Aramis said as he blushed. “I only know a few songs…”

“Stop being so modest”, Porthos said. “He’s great at playing, mum, trust me.”

“Kind and modest”, Marie said. “My son will be lucky to marry you.”

“But ma’am; nobody’s going to marry me”, Aramis said, blushing harder. “I’m a handful.”

“I have two hands”, Porthos said and winked. Aramis buried his face in his hands as Porthos and Marie giggled, the sound being eerily similar.

* * *

Porthos and Marie got out of the hospital after a few days and life went on. Porthos brought up the possibility of marriage a few times but every time Aramis turned down the possibility, believing that he should never marry again, partially because his first marriage had ended in catastrophe and partially because he feared for Porthos’ life. Aramis feared that if he ever committed to something again, it would end up in a similar catastrophe as it had ended with Isabelle.

Aramis couldn’t – he _wouldn’t_ – let that happen to Porthos. He couldn’t lose the man he loved, he couldn’t lose Porthos’ sunny and happy presence from his life.

(He had, of course thought the same of Isabelle and lost her. But somehow Porthos seemed like something entirely else.)

Philippe grew. He turned six, then seven and then eight. He started an art hobby and Aramis bought him a guitar, so he could learn to play. He also liked football but didn’t want to start playing it as a hobby. He would play with his friends and would sometimes have a few of his friends stay over at Aramis’ during some weekends.

On the day before the anniversary of Isabelle’s death, Philippe had gone to stay at Ana’s because Aramis wasn’t ready to tell Philippe about Isabelle yet. That was the only day of the year when Aramis absolutely couldn’t take care of Philippe and luckily both Ana and Porthos understood it. They would let Aramis be alone if he needed that but would always be there to remind him that he was loved. On the evening of the anniversary, Porthos would always pick Aramis up from wherever he’d ended up on that day and get him back home to have some cocoa and cake. He would let Aramis cry and scream or whatever he needed in order to get through the day, no questions asked.

Around four in the afternoon, Aramis had been printing a few papers from an elderly patient’s file when he noticed a familiar face in the crowd in a waiting room. At first Aramis couldn’t recognise the blond hair and bright blue eyes but when he saw the knife in the man’s hand, it hit Aramis. The familiar-looking man in the crowd was the one who had killed Isabelle and stabbed Aramis multiple times.

Aramis’ head spun as he hurried away from the waiting room and locked himself in one of the cabinets used for cleaning supplies. He distantly realised that he wasn’t breathing well as he called Porthos.

 _“What is it, Aramis?”_ asked Porthos’ voice from the other end of the line.

“I need help, Porthos”, Aramis whispered. “He’s here. The man who hurt me and killed Isabelle. He’s here! At the hospital.”

Aramis noticed that there were tears streaming down his face as he spoke.

 _“Can you pinpoint his location?”_ Porthos asked. _“Where in the hospital is he? Wait, I’ll go to Trèville and put the phone on speaker. Just a moment… speak now, Aramis.”_

“I saw him in one of the waiting rooms”, Aramis whispered. “He had blond hair and bright blue eyes… he wore a black coat and he was carrying a knife…”

 _“And you recognised the man?”_ Trèville asked. _“I’ll send a squad there; Porthos and I will come as well. Keep the line open, René, and tell me, what’s going on. Porthos, we’ll use your car and you’ll drive. I’ll go gather a few men; you keep talking to René.”_

* * *

 _“I was printing some pages from a patient’s file and on my way back to my office, when I saw him”_ , Aramis whispered. Porthos was driving the car while Trèville talked to Aramis.

 _“He was in the waiting room of the cardiology ward”_ , Aramis continued. _“I don’t think he saw me; I’m sure he would have recognised me and followed me. He was standing near one of the windows and drinking coffee. God… what if he’s there to kill someone?”_

“If he’s there to kill someone, we might be able to stop him”, Trèville said calmly. “Thanks to you alerting us, there is a chance that someone will live longer today.”

There was a strangled sob on the other side of the line as Aramis couldn’t contain his hysteria. He kept repeating apologies and short prayers while Trèville tried to calm him.

After an agonisingly long car ride in snowfall, the squad plus Porthos and Trèville arrived at the hospital. One of the squad members stayed at the reception to explain the situation while the others walked to the waiting room Aramis had talked about.

There was indeed a man with blond hair and bright blue eyes drinking coffee. As Trèville and Porthos walked closer to the man, they noticed the knife Aramis had mentioned and a gun as well. For a fleeting moment, Trèville remembered the gunshot wound on Isabelle’s head that no one had had the heart to mention to Aramis.

“Excuse me, monsieur”, Trèville said. “I am police captain Jean Trèville. I’m arresting you under suspicion of murder and attempted murder nine years ago. Please follow me outside the hospital.”

The blond man looked at Trèville murderously and then snorted.

“What gave me away?” he asked.

“One of your victims survived nine years ago”, Trèville said. “He works here as a doctor and recognized you.”

“I see”, the blond man said. “Well, I’m all yours, police captain Jean Trèville. Lead on.”

“We got him, Aramis”, Porthos said into the phone but was met only with the long beep of ended call. “Aramis? Aramis!”

Porthos cursed and ran to the main entrance. He got there just in time to see one of the squad members helping the blond man in a police car.

“Captain!” Porthos called. “Aramis ended the call and I don’t know where he is. Should at least one police officer stay here to look for him?”

“I’ll stay”, Trèville said. “Pierre can take care of the interrogation. Let’s try an announcement for René first before running off like headless chickens.”

“Good idea”, Porthos said. The two walked back inside the hospital and explained the situation to the lady at the reception and she made an announcement asking for dr. d’Herblay to come to the reception. However, the only person who turned up was Athos who was worried for his friend.

“So, he just ended the call?” Athos asked. “He’s not told anyone where he might be?”

“Yeah”, Porthos mumbled. “I haven’t been able to reach him. He doesn’t answer his phone.”

“That’s odd”, Athos said. He stayed at the reception when the receptionist made another announcement.

The next person who turned up was Constance Bonacieux who was carrying Aramis’ phone and a piece of paper. Her face was pale and her hands shaking.

“There’s a note”, she whispered as she reached Porthos. “He says he’s gone to Père Lachaise. I went down to the garage and checked if his car was still there and it was. He’s walking outside in that snowstorm, probably wearing only his lab coat!”

“Shit”, Porthos mumbled. “He can’t have walked all the way there yet, can he? Do you think we could find him if we drove there?”

“There are multiple ways, but I think he’s going through Rue de la Roquette”, Trèville said. “That’s the fastest way. Let’s drive through it and if we don’t find him, let’s return through Avenue Ledru-Roll.”

“Let’s take my car”, Porthos said. He almost ran outside, followed by Athos and Trèville. They got into Porthos’ car and drove towards the graveyard. Athos looked to the left while Trèville looked to the right, hoping to see even a glimpse of Aramis. After a bit over ten minutes of driving, Trèville told Porthos to stop the car. Porthos pulled over as Trèville ran to a human-sized lump on the street, discovering that it was, in fact, Aramis who had passed out.

“I’ll call an ambulance”, Athos said.

“No, we should get him into the car and drive back to the hospital”, Trèville said. “Call Constance and tell her to alert the people in the ER.”

Athos nodded as Porthos and Trèville lifted Aramis. They placed him on the backseat next to Athos who fastened Aramis’ seatbelt while Porthos and Trèville got back into the car and Porthos began driving back.

They could only hope they’d been on time.

* * *

Aramis woke painfully slowly. He could hear beeping and people talking quietly. As he slowly opened his eyes, he realized he was in a hospital room and that the people who were talking were Porthos and Sofia.

“What?” Aramis mumbled. “I was going to Père Lachaise…”

“You almost froze to death!” Sofia said hastily as she turned to look at Aramis. “You could have died, going outside like that. What were you _thinking_?”

“I… I needed to see Isabelle”, Aramis whispered. “I saw the man who killed her… I needed to see her again.”

“She’s _dead_!” Sofia hissed. “She’s gone. You can’t see her anymore! I’ve already lost a sister-in-law; I can’t lose you too. You’re my only little brother and I won’t let you follow Isabelle.”

Aramis realised that Sofia was crying and tried to raise his arm, so he could brush away the tears. However, Sofia recoiled from the touch and ran away from the room. Porthos shook his head and sat down on the edge of Aramis’ bed.

“She’s scared”, Porthos said softly. “Scared of losing you. And to be completely honest, so am I. You looked like a broken doll on that snowy sidewalk.”

Aramis took Porthos’ hand in his and squeezed Porthos’ fingers. There were tears gathering in Aramis’ eyes and he blinked a few times, hoping to keep the tears away.

“You see, Aramis, we love you”, Porthos said quietly. “And you might think yourself a handful and hard to deal with but I have two hands and quite a lot of patience. You are the dearest person to me right now and I love you so much and I couldn’t bear losing you. I know people usually do this on their knees and with a pair of rings, but I have none. I love you, Aramis and I would quite honestly go to the ends of the earth for you. Will you marry me?”

The tears that had gathered in Aramis eyes had begun to fall. His lower lip was trembling and Porthos sighed as he noticed it. Porthos cupped Aramis’ cheek and brushed few of the tears away with his thumb.

“Yes”, Aramis breathed. “Yes, I think I will.”

And that was when the dam broke. Aramis’ breath hitched as new tears gathered into his eyes. He covered his mouth with his hand as he began to cry weakly. Porthos sighed and gathered Aramis into a warm and firm embrace, shielding him momentarily from all the harm. Aramis’ head was on Porthos’ shoulder and Porthos rocked him back and forth, softly singing of love and happiness. His deep voice vibrated through Aramis’ body, sending goose bumps all over his skin.

“I love you”, Porthos whispered and kissed Aramis’ temple. “I love you so much.”

Aramis let out a weak laugh as he squeezed Porthos’ shoulders.

“I love you too”, he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and that's where we end chapter 2! There was originally supposed to be one more scene but I just had no energy to write it so it will be published in the possible 3rd chapter (should I or should I not write one? You decide!)
> 
> As always, feedback is most welcome and I can be found on tumblr as talvenhenki!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the third and last chapter of this fic! :D I won't continue it anymore even though there would be quite a few ideas for future chapters because I simply don't have the motivation to keep so many fics going atm. I hope you'll like the last chapter and thank you for commenting and leaving kudos on this fic!

Aramis was standing behind his door, contemplating whether he should open it and go in. It was odd, really, that opening one door seemed so hard. During the past 24 hours, Aramis had gone through a massive panic attack, almost frozen himself to death as he’d tried to walk to Père Lachaise while still trying to pull himself out of said panic attack, been proposed to and accepted the proposal and then visited the grave of his late wife. He had gone through so many emotions that he should have had no problem opening one door, and yet opening it seemed like too much, like stepping into something new and terrifying.

(Of course, Aramis was stepping into something new and terrifying – he and Porthos had decided that as soon as Aramis returned from the graveyard, their engagement would become real.)

Aramis inhaled deeply and, with one swift movement, opened the door. He didn’t want to keep Porthos waiting; he had just needed a little more time to work through his fears.

As Aramis stepped into the hallway, he was greeted by Marie-Cesette who seemed to be cooking something. She smiled kindly as she wiped her hands on her apron and moved to hug Aramis.

“Porthos told me about your engagement”, she said as she pulled away and squeezed Aramis’ arms. “I’m so happy for both of you.”

Aramis nodded shakily, not trusting his voice. He moved to unlace his winter shoes rather mechanically; his hands were shaking, and he knew it wasn’t only the cold that had made his hands shake so badly. As he took off his coat, he realised that Marie was still standing in the hallway.

“Porthos is in the living room with your friend Athos”, she said. “I’m cooking you a celebratory lunch.”

“Thank you”, Aramis whispered. “I… thank you.”

“You’re most welcome”, Marie said. She returned to the kitchen as Aramis walked into the living room where he was greeted by Athos and Porthos.

“Hey”, Aramis whispered as he sat down next to Porthos on the sofa. “Sorry for taking so long.”

“It’s alright”, Porthos said. “We all know this is a hard day for you. Don’t worry about taking time; we’ll wait for you.”

Aramis nodded shakily and leaned on Porthos’ shoulder as Porthos wrapped his arm around Aramis’ shoulders. Athos smiled sadly at his two best friends as they drew strength from each other.

“I wanted to congratulate you”, Athos said, “for your engagement. Constance and I had begun betting on how long it would take.”

Aramis let out an amused huff at Athos’ comment as Porthos laughed. Even Athos smiled a little; his aim was to lighten the mood and he had succeeded. Aramis was no longer trembling. He had relaxed and was breathing a little easier.

“Thanks”, Porthos said. “We’d better start planning the wedding. I feel like an excited child; I can’t wait for the wedding day.”

“Let’s have the wedding in summer”, Aramis whispered. “We could hold the reception outside, maybe at my parents’ house. They’ll probably want to host the reception anyway.”

“Better not fight with the d’Herblays”, Porthos said and kissed the top of Aramis’ head. “I’d love a summer wedding. Or to be honest, I’d love any wedding; I just want to marry you soon.”

“So do I”, Aramis whispered and nuzzled his face a little bit closer to Porthos’ chest. The sight warmed Athos’ heart; he’d come to know Aramis during the hardest times of his friend’s life and seeing how far Aramis had got ever since made him immensely proud.

“I can’t wait to see you two happily married”, Athos said softly. “And neither can Constance and d’Artagnan.”

“Especially d’Artagnan”, Porthos said with amusement in his voice. “He was coming over too? You should have seen him yesterday at the hospital after Aramis fell asleep; he cheered so much when I told him…”

“I’ve told you; he sometimes acts like an excited puppy”, Athos said, making both Porthos and Aramis snort with laughter. “He’ll come over for just a quick visit after his shift ends; it began sometime around midnight.”

“Oh, poor d’Artagnan, having to work on a Saturday morning must be terrible”, Aramis muttered.

“Trust me, it is”, Porthos said. “I’m glad Trèville gave me the whole weekend free so we can just relax at home.”

“So am I”, Aramis said and closed his eyes. He would just rest them for a moment…

“…And he’s asleep”, Porthos said only a moment later. “He didn’t really sleep at the hospital; he woke up with nightmares more than once, according to Constance.”

“I hope he manages to sleep tonight”, Athos said. “On top of all this, he shouldn’t have to suffer from insomnia too…”

“He’ll try”, Porthos said and stroked Aramis’ hair. “And he knows I’ll stay awake with him until he falls asleep.”

“He’s lucky to have you”, Athos said. “How have you been aside all the things that happened yesterday?”

“I’ve been pretty good”, Porthos said. “Nothing too hard or dangerous has happened so I don’t have much to do at work but then again, it’s better that way.”

“True; it’s better that things are quiet”, Athos mused. Before he could continue, the doorbell rang, and Aramis stirred. He looked around in confusion as Marie went to open the door that revealed Aramis’ father and Mercedes.

“Oh, hello!” Marie said. “Come in, you two. We weren’t expecting you at all.”

“We just wanted to pop in for a quick visit”, Mercedes said. “We visited Isabelle’s grave and wanted to see how René’s doing.”

“He’s in the living room”, Marie said. “Don’t mind me; go see him. I bet he’ll be happy.”

Aramis was barely alert enough to fully understand what was going on as he stood up and he almost tripped on the carpet, saved only by Porthos’ quick reflexes. Porthos helped him to stand as Mercedes walked to them and hugged Aramis.

“Hey”, she breathed. “How are you doing?”

“I’m tired”, Aramis muttered as he returned the hug and leaned on Mercedes for support. “You woke me up.”

“Aww, I’m sorry”, Mercedes said. “You don’t seem to be cold, though, so that’s good.”

“Have you told your family about what we talked about yesterday?” Porthos asked, smiling at Aramis who was almost falling asleep on Mercedes.

“Not yet”, Aramis mumbled. “I’m getting married. With Porthos.”

“What?” Mercedes asked and pulled away from the hug to see Aramis’ face, that happened to be wrinkled in a yawn as she pulled away. “When did you…?”

“Yesterday, when I had just woken up”, Aramis said, now leaning on Porthos for support. “He proposed to me after Sofia ran away. Apparently he has enough hands to hold me even though I’m a handful.”

Mercedes giggled and hugged both Aramis and Porthos. They tried to return the hug, except that Porthos was still holding Aramis and Aramis was too tired to raise his hands so there was a lot of awkward back-patting instead of an actual hug.

“I’m happy for you two”, Mercedes said. “When’s the wedding?”

“We haven’t decided yet”, Aramis said. “I went to visit Isabelle’s grave the first thing in the morning and only just got home… We were thinking summer, though.”

“What’s going on?” Oscar asked as he finally showed up in the living room.

“René and Porthos are going to get married”, Mercedes said.

“Really?” Oscar asked and smiled. “When?”

“We haven’t decided yet, but we were thinking about next summer”, Porthos said.

“That sounds nice”, Oscar said. “You must let me and Diana host the reception.”

“I told you”, Aramis said. “They would want to host the reception.”

“Yes, you did”, Porthos said and kissed the top of Aramis’ head. “Are you staying for lunch? Knowing my mum, she’s cooked for a small village.”

“Sure, if that’s fine for you”, Oscar said. “I’ll go help her to cook; it’s nicer to cook with company.”

“Okay”, Aramis said as he sat back down on the sofa. Mercedes followed suit and soon they were discussing the oncoming wedding with Porthos and slightly awkward Athos.

“Do you want the piano tuned?” Mercedes asked suddenly. “It’d be nice for someone to play something during the reception.”

“That would be nice”, Aramis said. “Can you take care of that? I can pay for it.”

“No, I’ll pay for it”, Mercedes said. “I’ll need the practice anyway. And I bet mamá will be happy to play the piano again.”

“I hope she’ll be”, Aramis said, a soft smile on his lips. “None of us has touched that piano since Isabelle…”

Aramis seemed to lose his train of thought as he quietened completely. His gaze was directed somewhere far away, no doubt that his mind was recreating some of the memories Aramis had shared with Isabelle. Porthos sighed and wrapped his arm around Aramis’ shoulder, pulling him closer.

“Anyway, the piano will need tuning”, Mercedes said. “And you’re going to need something matching in your suits. Maybe ties or bowties?”

“Matching bowties sound like fun”, Porthos said. Aramis hummed in agreement, his gaze still directed somewhere far away.

“That would be”, Athos agreed, smiling. “And very much like you two.”

The discussion flowed on. Aramis was still leaning on Porthos’ protective touch as the others chatted about weddings and other oncoming celebrations. After about fifteen minutes, Marie announced that the lunch would be ready and that they could come to eat. As there were originally supposed to be only three people, there was some shuffling and extra chairs needed to fit the group of six around the dining table.

To Porthos, the lunch tasted heavenly. He’d always thought that Marie was the best cook in the world and she’d proved him right all over again. Even Aramis seemed to be a little bit happier as he ate and Porthos hoped it would last until the evening.

However, it did not last for very long.

Sometime after the lunch when d’Artagnan had appeared with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolate and Marie, Mercedes and Oscar had left, Aramis’ phone rang. As he picked it up from the table, he noticed that it was Philippe who was calling him. He walked to the living room, so he could speak with Philippe without too many people listening.

 _“Papá?”_ Philippe’s teary voice asked from the other end of the line. _“Can I stay at your house tonight? I know mamá said that it’s one of your bad days but there were people talking bad things at my art hobby today and mamá doesn’t know how to make things all better like you do.”_

“Of course you can come”, Aramis said. “Where are you? I can come to pick you up.”

 _“I’m at the park near where my art hobby is”_ , Philippe said quietly. _“I left early because the people wouldn’t stop saying bad things.”_

“Do you mean the park with the cat statue?” Aramis asked. “I’ll drive there. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

 _“Okay”_ , Philippe said and sniffled. _“Bye.”_

“See you soon”, Aramis said and waited for Philippe to close the line. He then almost ran to the hallway to grab his coat, shoes and car keys so he could drive to Philippe.

“Where are you going?” d’Artagnan asked as he saw Aramis in the hallway.

“Philippe wants to stay here tonight so I’ll go pick him up”, Aramis said as he laced his winter boots. “Someone upset him and he says Ana isn’t as good as making him feel better as I am.”

“Should someone come with you?” d’Artagnan asked.

“No, I’ll go alone”, Aramis said. “Just stay here; I won’t be long.”

Aramis hurried to his car and started it. He took a few steadying breaths as he drew to the park Philippe had said he’d be in. As he pulled over near it and walked there, he saw Philippe sitting alone in the swing, kicking the dirt underneath it.

“Philippe”, Aramis called as he walked into the playground. “Is everything alright?”

Philippe’s lower lip had begun to tremble as he’d noticed Aramis. He ran to Aramis and Aramis crouched down to hug Philippe and to lift him up to carry him on his hip. As soon as Philippe was in the safety of Aramis’ embrace, he began crying.

“Hey, it’s alright”, Aramis mumbled. “I’m here now and I’ll take you home. Grandma Marie’s cooked some really good lamb and there was some left so you can have that as a late lunch.”

“They said that you and baba were bad people”, Philippe said, still crying. “I wanted to tell them that they were wrong, but they were so big and scary that I couldn’t!”

“It’s alright”, Aramis whispered. “It’s alright to be scared.”

“But you and baba are not bad people for loving each other, right?” Philippe asked. “It’s not wrong for two men to love each other, right?”

“No, it’s not”, Aramis whispered. “We can’t control who we fall in love with. Love is never wrong but we must remember that sometimes people do not love us back the same way we love them.”

Philippe nodded and continued to cry on Aramis’ shoulder as Aramis walked to pick up the backpack Philippe had dropped. He then walked to his car where he helped Philippe to sit on the passenger seat while he sat on the driver’s seat. He sighed as Philippe tried to dry his tears even though they were still pouring down.

“It’s alright, Philippe”, Aramis said. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But mamá said that it’s one of your very bad days”, Philippe sniffled, “and that you’re not feeling well and still I called you. I’m sorry I made you come here even though you’re not feeling well.”

“It’s fine”, Aramis said, taking Philippe’s hand in his. “You needed my help. There’s no need to apologise for needing help. Your safety and comfort should always come first, then mine.”

Philippe nodded and then sniffled. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and blinked.

“Ready to go home now?” Aramis asked. “Did you call mamá and tell her you would come to my house?”

“I didn’t”, Philippe said. “I didn’t want her to get angry…”

“I’ll call her when we get home”, Aramis said. “I don’t think she’ll be angry; she’ll probably be worried.”

“I don’t want her to worry, though”, Philippe said.

“She’ll know you’ll be safe; that’ll probably make her worry a little less”, Aramis offered as he started the car. Philippe nodded and looked outside the window as Aramis drove home. When Aramis parked, he saw that Philippe was still looking absolutely miserable.

“Do you want me to carry you home?” Aramis asked, smiling a little.

“Yeah”, Philippe said, his lower lip wobbling. Aramis ruffled his hair and got out of the car and walked to the passenger side, so he could lift Philippe and his backpack up and carry them on his hip. When he walked to the apartment building, he tried to find his keys but realised that they weren’t in his pockets.

“You know what, Philippe?” Aramis said. “I think I forgot my keys. Do you have yours or do you want to ring the doorbell?”

“Let’s ring the doorbell”, Philippe said. Aramis let him press the right button on the doorbell and soon they could hear Porthos’ voice from the speaker.

 _“Who’s there?”_ he asked.

“It’s Philippe”, Philippe said. “Papá forgot his keys. Can you open the door?”

 _“Sure thing”_ , Porthos said and the doorbell buzzed, signalling that the door was open. Aramis pulled it open and walked in and up the stairs to Porthos and his apartment. The door was open and Porthos was smiling at Aramis and Philippe as they got in.

“Hey there, buddy”, Porthos said to Philippe as Aramis let him down on the floor. “You’re going to stay here tonight, aren’t you? I’ve bought some ice cream and I thought you’d like to have some as dessert later today, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes”, Philippe said and nodded. “What kind of ice cream?”

“Strawberry”, Porthos said as he helped Philippe out of his coat. “You like strawberry, don’t you?”

“Yup”, Philippe said, kicking off his shoes. “I like chocolate too, but I like strawberry better.”

“Well, good thing we have strawberry ice cream then”, Porthos said. “I was thinking of cooking some hamburgers for us for tonight; does that sound good?”

“Yes”, Philippe said. “I can help so papá can rest.”

“That’s very nice of you”, Porthos said. “We won’t start yet, though, so you can go play something and I’ll call for you when I need help.”

“Okay”, Philippe said and ran off to his room. Aramis smiled softly at his retreating back as he took off his winter shoes and coat.

“How are you feeling?” Porthos asked quietly as he followed Aramis to the living room where Athos and d’Artagnan were still sitting.

“Sad, I guess”, Aramis mumbled. “Two kids upset Philippe by saying that it’s unnatural for two men to love each other. And then he felt that he should apologise for asking help on my bad day… I’m his _father_ ; I should be able to protect him!”

“You can’t shield him from everything”, Porthos said and took Aramis’ hands in his, “but you can comfort him when he needs you.”

“Yes”, Aramis mumbled as he sat down on the sofa. “Damn… I have to call Ana to tell her that Philippe is here.”

Aramis fished his phone out of his pocket and sighed. The day wasn’t even halfway over and he was already wishing he could just go to sleep. He just wanted to stay hidden in Porthos’ protective embrace and forget how much it hurt to remember Isabelle. He dialled Ana’s number, sighing again.

He just wanted to forget…

 _“Aramis?”_ Ana’s voice asked through the line. _“What is it? Has something happened?”_

“Philippe called me”, Aramis said. “Someone upset him at his art hobby and he wanted to stay at my place tonight, so I picked him up and brought him here. Is that alright?”

 _“Oh, that’s fine”_ , Ana said, clearly relieved. _“Thank you for telling me. Are you alright?”_

“I’m fine”, Aramis said. A little white lie wouldn’t upset Ana. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

 _“Please rest”_ , Ana said quietly. _“And remember that you’re loved and we’re all here for you. Now, can you give Philippe a hug for me and tell him I said hi?”_

“Sure”, Aramis said, a small smile spreading on his lips. “Bye.”

 _“Bye”_ , Ana said and ended the call. Aramis sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“How are you really feeling?” Athos asked softly.

“Tired”, Aramis mumbled. “I just want to sleep and forget for a little while…”

D’Artagnan reached over and hugged Aramis who leaned into the hug. D’Artagnan began rubbing Aramis’ back as Aramis let out a shuddering breath.

“I know today is really hard for you”, d’Artagnan said. “But please remember how strong you are to function even with the grief inside you. God knows I couldn’t do even half of what you’ve done. I know you probably keep hearing this all over again but we’re here for you and you can call us at any time and we’ll help.”

“Thank you”, Aramis whispered.

“I think I should take d’Artagnan home”, Athos said quietly. “His hands are starting to shake from the lack of sleep and there’s no way I’m letting him drive to his place alone that tired.”

“I’m fine, Athos”, d’Artagnan groaned.

“The hell you are”, Athos said. “Now get up. I’ll drive you home and make sure you sleep. I’m not letting you endanger yourself.”

“Athos, the mom friend”, Porthos said, smiling widely as he took hold of Aramis’ hand again. “You’re acting like a worried mother hen.”

“If that’s what keeps you alive and relatively well, then so be it”, Athos said. “I’ll rather have you three alive and healthy. You’re the closest thing I have to a family after all.”

“We’ll try our best to keep it that way”, Aramis whispered, giving Athos a sad smile. “Or at least I am.”

“And for that I’m very grateful”, Athos said and promptly pulled Aramis into a hug. “You’ll get through all this. I know you will.”

Aramis nodded shakily as Athos pulled away from the hug. Athos patted his shoulder clumsily and pulled d’Artagnan up from the sofa.

“Bye, Philippe!” d’Artagnan called. “We’re leaving.”

“Bye”, Philippe called from his room. D’Artagnan smiled as Athos led him into the hallway and they put on their outwear.

“See you at work on Monday, Aramis”, Athos said as they left the apartment. Aramis sighed and sunk into one of the chairs in the living room as soon as the door closed.

“You really look like you could use a nap”, Porthos said softly. He cupped Aramis’ cheek in his hand and let his thumb run over Aramis’ cheekbone.

“If I sleep now, I won’t be able to sleep at night”, Aramis mumbled. Porthos smiled and him sadly and kissed his forehead.

“Then just take it easy for the rest of the day”, Porthos said. Aramis nodded and picked up a book he’d been reading before the horrendous Friday and began reading from where he’d left it.

The rest of the day was slow. Porthos decided he wanted to watch a movie while Philippe really wanted to assemble a huge 1000-piece puzzle with Aramis, so they set out to work on Philippe’s bedroom floor. Eventually Porthos joined them after the film ended and soon they had a huge Star Wars themed puzzle done on Philippe’s bedroom floor.

When Philippe and Porthos began cooking the dinner, Aramis returned to his book. He was sitting comfortably in the corner of the sofa with a blanket wrapped around him. As he was shivering even when the dinner was done, he decided to wrap the blanket around his shoulders for extra warmth. Philippe decided he wanted to use the blanket too and so Aramis and Philippe ended up eating their dessert while sitting on the sofa and having the same blanket wrapped around their shoulders.

It melted Porthos’ heart, really, to see Aramis and Philippe like that. He’d come to love Philippe like his own son and seeing Aramis so happy on his worse days made Porthos’ heart soar. He could just sit there forever and look at his little family being happy.

When Philippe began yawning, Aramis ushered him to the bathroom to brush his teeth so he could go to sleep. When Philippe was done, Aramis went to see that everything was alright with him.

“Papá?” Philippe asked when Aramis walked in the room. “I have a question.”

“What is it?” Aramis asked and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Is this day always your bad day?” Philippe asked quietly. “You had a bad day on this day last year. And the year before that. Why? Is your medicine not working?”

“Something bad happened to me on this day years ago”, Aramis said quietly. “It happened before you were even born.”

“What happened?” Philippe asked. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Yes”, Aramis whispered. “I… I had a wife before that but the man who hurt me killed her and our baby…”

“You had a baby before me?” Philippe asked.

“She hadn’t been born yet”, Aramis explained. “So technically no. But if she had been born, she’d have been your half-sister.”

“What was her name?” Philippe asked curiously.

“We’d have called her Louise”, Aramis said. For a moment, he could see a different life for himself, a life with Isabelle and Louise…

“If she’s dead, is she in Heaven?” Philippe asked. “Can I ask for God to make sure she’s happy and safe there and to tell her you love her?”

“I… I don’t know”, Aramis whispered, taken aback by Philippe’s words. “I guess you can try…”

“I will”, Philippe said. “Good night, papá.”

“Good night”, Aramis whispered as he mechanically walked out of the room. For a moment, he just stood in the hallway that separated the two bedrooms and the bathroom from the living room.

“Is everything alright?” Porthos asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I… I think I’ll go to sleep”, Aramis whispered and walked to the kitchen to take his medication. Porthos followed him and held his trembling hand as he swallowed his medication.

“You need me to come to bed with you?” Porthos asked quietly.

“I really want to say I’ll be fine on my own”, Aramis whispered, “but I think I’ll need you there…”

“It’s fine”, Porthos said. “I’ll come to sleep with you.”

Aramis nodded and walked into the bathroom where he began brushing his teeth while Porthos did the same. Their shoulders brushed against each other’s and just for a moment everything felt fine.

“I told Philippe about Isabelle”, Aramis whispered when the two were on the bed, Aramis safe in Porthos’ embrace. “He’d noticed that it had been a bad day on today last year too…”

“He’s a clever boy”, Porthos said softly. “Must get that from you.”

“He asked me if Louise was in Heaven”, Aramis whispered. “He asked me if he could ask God to make sure she’s happy and to tell her that I loved her…”

Tears were slowly gathering into Aramis’ eyes as he tried to breathe around the lump in his throat. He hadn’t wanted to tell Philippe about Isabelle yet, not when Philippe was so young…

“He’s got your sense of empathy”, Porthos whispered and kissed Aramis’ temple. “And I think he’d like to have known his sister.”

“But the thing is that he wouldn’t have been born if Isabelle and Louise had survived”, Aramis said as the tears started leaking. “I wouldn’t know you and I wouldn’t have the sweetest, kindest child ever if Isabelle had lived. Hell, sometimes I don’t know if I’d want them back more than I love you and Philippe. I know it’s terrible to think like that and I just want to stop it…”

“I know”, Porthos whispered and held Aramis tighter. “I would have done anything to have my mum with me as I grew up. I know it would have made me a different person and I might not even have met you if she’d been with me. I know that and still I would have wanted to grow up with my mum looking after me.”

Aramis whimpered into Porthos’ chest. He could not understand how the innocent words of his little son had completely managed to break his heart all over again.

“It feels empty”, Aramis whispered. “My chest. It feels like I could open it and there would be nothing in there, just an empty spot where my heart should be. I just want all that to stop!”

Aramis clawed at his chest, as if it would help to fill the emptiness. Porthos shushed him and grabbed his hands, kissing them over and over again. He then moved to kiss Aramis’ forehead.

“It’s alright”, Porthos said. “We’ll just have to fill your heart with new and happy memories. I know it sounds near impossible right now but please, please remember that I believe in you and I’m going to help you get through all this. You’ve made so much progress already that it’s amazing. I love you.”

Aramis nodded shakily as he continued crying into Porthos’ chest. Porthos pressed kisses on Aramis’ hair and rocked him back and forth.

“I love you too”, Aramis whispered. “You’re my world, you keep me alive…”

Porthos pressed a kiss on Aramis’ lips and smiled at him. He brushed away some stray tears from Aramis’ flushed cheeks and pressed another kiss on Aramis’ nose.

“Try to sleep”, Porthos said. “I’ll stay awake with you as long as it takes for you to fall asleep.”

“Thank you, Porthos”, Aramis whispered. “You’re my dearest treasure…”

Porthos pulled Aramis back into the tight and secure embrace which made Aramis sigh contently. Aramis nuzzled his nose against Porthos’ shoulder as he slowly began drifting off to sleep.

Halfway through the night, when Aramis was already fast asleep, Porthos heard soft steps from behind him. He turned to look back and saw that Philippe had opened the bedroom door.

“Baba?” Philippe whispered. “Can I sleep here tonight? I had a nightmare and I’m scared…”

“Sure”, Porthos said. “Climb in. Was it a bad nightmare?”

“Papá was hurt in there”, Philippe whispered as he climbed in the bed right between Aramis and Porthos. “And you were hurt too. And the person who hurt you tried to hurt mamá too…”

“Hey, it’s alright, buddy”, Porthos said. “I’m here and papá’s here and we’re both alright. And in the morning you can call mamá if you want to. You’ll be safe sleeping between me and papá.”

“Okay”, Philippe said. Aramis shifted in his sleep and wrapped his arm around Philippe. Porthos smiled as he drifted off to sleep again.

* * *

When Aramis woke up, the first thing he saw was Porthos’ grin. Then he saw Philippe sleeping in between them, lazily hugging Aramis like he would hug a teddy bear.

“Don’t move”, Porthos whispered. “You look so cute like that. You’re an oversized teddy bear now.”

“Did he come here last night?” Aramis asked, feeling worry for Philippe.

“Yes”, Porthos said. “He said he’d had a nightmare about both of us and Ana getting hurt. I guess he wanted to feel safe.”

Aramis sighed and hugged Philippe. He had been sure that Philippe would have nightmares about something similar when he’d told Philippe about Isabelle and it was rather disheartening to realise how right he’d been.

“I’ll make some breakfast”, Porthos said. “Is there anything you want for breakfast specifically?”

“Anything you make is great”, Aramis mumbled. “Maybe some tea.”

“Tea it is, then”, Porthos said. “And some actual food too.”

“Okay”, Aramis said. He pulled the covers back up when Porthos got up, covering himself and Philippe. Philippe let out a little puff of air but did not wake up.

For a moment Aramis only lay on the bed comfortably. However, when he heard Porthos singing in the kitchen, he decided to get up and join Porthos. He loved hearing Porthos sing because that was such a rare occurrence. He got up quietly so he wouldn’t wake Philippe up, and walked into the kitchen where Porthos was making scrambled eggs. Aramis smiled softly and walked to Porthos, hugging him from behind and resting his head on Porthos’ shoulder.

“Don’t stop singing”, Aramis whispered. “I love it when you sing. Your voice is so rich and deep.”

Porthos chuckled and continued singing. His voice sent shivers down Aramis’ spine and he let out a content sigh. At some point he realised that his eyes were rather misty since Porthos’ singing was making him very emotional. He released a shaky breath and closed his eyes as the song ended.

“Everything alright?” Porthos asked quietly.

“Yes”, Aramis breathed. “I’m just very happy because I have you in my life. I’m so happy that I have someone as great as you here with me. Also, I think I’m getting snot on your shirt.”

Porthos laughed and turned the stove off so he could turn to look at Aramis and kiss him properly. He brushed away a few tears from Aramis’ cheeks as Aramis laughed too, looking at Porthos like one would look at their whole world, like an unimaginable wonder.

“I love you”, Aramis said. “If I could give you back all the love and support you’ve shown me thousand times over, it would be somewhere close to the amount of love I feel for you. You’re a wonder, Porthos, a miracle and I’m so very lucky to get to experience the world with you at my side. People don’t appreciate you enough.”

Aramis kissed Porthos. The kiss took Porthos completely by surprise and he almost stumbled backwards against the stove. Luckily, that was when Aramis pulled Porthos towards himself and backed down a few steps. Porthos chuckled and deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around Aramis.

“Why are you two being so weird so early in the morning?” Philippe’s voice asked from behind them.

“There was a moment of spontaneous love”, Porthos said after pulling away from the kiss. He grinned at Philippe who looked mildly annoyed at the two.

“Okay”, he said. “Can I have breakfast?”

“Sure thing”, Porthos said. “I was almost ready when papá decided to make his undying love known. Can you help with the dishes, Aramis?”

“Sure”, Aramis said and hurried to gather the dishes needed for breakfast. He handed them over to Philippe who set them out on the table. Porthos gathered the cheese, ham, tomato slices and cucumber slices on one plate and put it on the table as well. He then proceeded to put the scrambled eggs on the three plates that were on the table for Aramis, Philippe and himself. Soon they were ready to have breakfast.

“Is everything alright, Philippe?” Aramis asked quietly when he realised Philippe was very quiet. “Is something the matter?”

“I was just wondering”, Philippe mumbled. “What should I do if someone tried to hurt me or someone who was with me?”

Aramis’ face fell. He felt like his stomach had fallen somewhere to his knees, feeling a little bit like when you’d accidentally skip one stair when going downstairs. He had known hearing about Isabelle would make Philippe have questions, but he’d still wanted to shield Philippe from the world. He picked up a post-it paper and wrote down the emergency service number on it.

“If someone tries to hurt you, you hide”, Aramis said slowly. “You hide somewhere and if you can, you call this, the emergency service number. You tell the people there what’s going on and they’ll tell you what to do. But if you’re with Porthos or me and we can make the call, then we’ll do it while keeping you safe.”

“Okay”, Philippe said.

“But remember that there are very few people who actually try to hurt others”, Porthos said, smiling reassuringly at Philippe. “My job is to catch those people who do so that other people can stay safe.”

“Good”, Philippe said. “That’s a good job.”

Aramis sighed and pulled Philippe into a hug. He brushed his fingers through Philippe’s hair as Philippe sniffled.

“It’s alright”, Aramis whispered. “We’ll keep you safe; you won’t have to fear the evils of the world.”

“Okay”, Philippe whispered. “Can you read something to me, papá? Or can we watch that film you got me for Christmas?”

“We could watch the film”, Aramis said. “I’m a little exhausted from yesterday so I’d probably read very wrong.”

“And we’ll have to start planning the wedding”, Porthos said.

“What wedding?” Philippe asked. He looked confusedly at Porthos while Aramis mentally kicked himself.

“We forgot to tell you”, Porthos said, mimicking shock. “Your papá and I are getting married.”

“Really?” Philippe asked and then cheered. “I knew those boys were wrong! It can’t be wrong for two men to love each other if they can get married. I knew it!”

“Yes, they were”, Porthos said and ruffled Philippe’s hair. “They upset you?”

“Yes”, Philippe said, looking at his knees. “They were saying that you and papá are bad people and it made me mad.”

“It’s alright to be mad”, Aramis said. “I wouldn’t have wanted to hear that my parents were bad people as a child so I can imagine it made you angry. Just remember that if you’re confused about something, you can always ask us or mamá for advice.”

“Okay”, Philippe mumbled. He finished his breakfast and put his dishes into the sink. He then went to the living room to work out the DVD player, so they could watch the film. Meanwhile, Aramis and Porthos finished their breakfast and cleaned up the table. Then they too walked into the living room and began planning the wedding while Philippe watched the film.

They couldn’t wait for the wedding to take place.

* * *

Months went by and soon it was the first weekend of June which was to be their wedding day. There had been a lot of cleaning and preparing involved and Aramis might have baked a little bit more than he had been supposed to, but no one really minded since his pastries and other baked goods tasted great. Porthos had received two blue roses from captain Trèville’s wife to put in the buttonholes of their suit jackets for their wedding.

There was a lot of excitement in the air.

Before the official wedding ceremony at the town hall, Aramis couldn’t let go of Porthos’ hand. In return, Porthos would plant small kisses all over Aramis’ face, making him almost giggle. Constance, who was one of the witnesses, smiled at the two who looked so happy that it made her happy as well.

When the ceremony was over, they drove to Saint-Maurice where Aramis’ parents lived to host the wedding reception. Aramis’ sisters and Porthos’ mother were already there and as soon as the newlywed couple stepped inside, they were hugged ferociously by the three.

“I’m so happy for the two of you”, Marie said as she hugged both Aramis and Porthos. “Took you long enough to do this.”

“I know”, Aramis whispered. “I should have not been as stubborn as I was.”

“It’s alright”, Porthos said, squeezing Aramis’ hand. “I know you were terrified of the prospect. I’m just glad we can be happily together now.”

Aramis smiled softly and walked into the kitchen with the bags of the baked goods his parents hadn’t retrieved on the day before. He greeted his parents and handed over the bag to them.

“Congratulations, René”, Oscar said and hugged Aramis. “How are you feeling?”

“Excited and terrified at the same time”, Aramis confessed. “But it’s a good terrified. Now I know I’ll have someone to face the eternity with.”

“That’s good”, Diana said as she hugged Aramis. “The guests will be coming over soon, you go make yourself at home with Porthos.”

“Okay”, Aramis said and walked back into the living room where Porthos had gone with Marie and Aramis’ sisters. He sat next to Porthos who instantly wrapped his arms around Aramis and kissed his temple. They stayed like that until the guests arrived, safe from the world.

When the guests began coming in, Aramis was there to greet every single one. Most of the guests hugged him, even Trèville who seemed very emotional. When Marsac came in, he gave Aramis the longest hug he’d ever given Aramis.

“Good to see you”, Marsac whispered as he hugged Aramis. “It’s been too long.”

“It’s good to see you now”, Aramis said, smiling widely at his friend. “It really has been too long. Come, you have to meet Porthos.”

Aramis led Marsac to Porthos who had been talking with Diana. Diana greeted Marsac with a tight hug and Porthos with a handshake.

“So, this is the Marsac you’ve been talking about?”, Porthos asked with a grin on his face.

“Yes, this is _the_ Marsac”, Aramis said. “I’ll leave you two to talk; I’m finding myself in acute need of refreshments.”

Aramis left the two standing awkwardly as the reception went on.

“So… congratulations?” Marsac offered. “Sorry, I haven’t talked to people in a long time…”

“It’s alright”, Porthos said. “It’s nice to finally see you. Aramis has been telling me a lot about you.”

“Good things, I hope?” Marsac chuckled and then sighed. “Now that I see how happy he is, I feel like I should have been there for him more. I heard about Isabelle and the unborn baby they’d almost had but for some reason I stayed away; probably because I couldn’t face such grief… Now I see I lost my chance to be there for him and soon I’ll no longer be in this world.”

“What do you mean?” Porthos asked. Marsac pursed his lips and shook his head.

“I have inoperable brain cancer”, Marsac said. “In a few months’ time I’ll begin losing myself and I’ve decided to get euthanasia before the cancer spreads too far. I beg you, please make Aramis happy because I can’t stand the idea of him being unhappy because of me. I broke his heart once and I’m not going to do so again.”

“I promise”, Porthos breathed. He couldn’t help but feel pity for the man in front of him. Marsac’s expression softened and he awkwardly patted Porthos’ shoulder.

“In another lifetime, you and I would have made great friends, Porthos”, Marsac said. “Please take care of Aramis. I know he’s recovered well but I can see he still needs someone steady at his side.”

“I will”, Porthos said quietly. “I wish I could do something to help you…”

“Trust me, a lot of doctors have tried”, Marsac said. “The best you can do is to stay at Aramis’ side. He will need your love when I go because I know he’ll blame himself even though everyone would tell him not to.”

“I’ll be there for him until the end of my time”, Porthos said. “I promise I will.”

“You’re a good person, Porthos”, Marsac said. “I’ll go be social with Aramis a little because I’ll probably leave soon so he doesn’t see anything weird going on with me. Again, congratulations on your wedding.”

“Thanks”, Porthos said and smiled at Marsac who was already walking towards Aramis. Porthos turned to Trèville who’d been talking with Marie and struck up a conversation with him.

The reception continued with everyone in high spirits. Some people began dancing along the music playing from the stereos while other made room for the dancing folk. Ana danced with both Porthos and Aramis and kissed their cheeks. Philippe tried to dance with Marie but when it proved too hard, he decided that eating the food was a better idea. Constance and d’Artagnan were photographing everything in the reception so that Aramis and Porthos would have a lot of happy memories to look back to.

Everything was just as it was supposed to be.

Later in the evening, when most of the guests had already left, Porthos was sitting on the old porch swing with Aramis half-asleep, leaning on Porthos. Porthos was stroking Aramis’ hair and humming softly while the swing rocked back and forth.

“I’m happy”, Aramis whispered. Porthos smiled softly at him, waiting for him to continue. “I haven’t been this happy in a long time. I’m so glad to have you at my side; I love you so very much.”

“I love you too”, Porthos whispered and opened the ribbon that was holding some of Aramis’ hair in a ponytail. Aramis’ hair fell partially over his eyes as he grinned at Porthos and kissed him.

“I’m so glad we’re finally married”, Aramis whispered. “Your mother was right; we should have married a long time ago…”

“We should have but at least we’re married now”, Porthos said. He kissed Aramis’ forehead while Aramis nuzzled closer to Porthos. Porthos smiled as he leaned his head on Aramis’.

Porthos knew that Marsac would die in a few months’ time and that would shatter Aramis, but he also knew he and Aramis were happy at that moment. He dreaded all the pain he knew would come in the future but he also decided he would cherish all the precious and happy moments with Aramis so that he’d have the strength to pull Aramis out of his grief when it hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where it ends. I hope you've had a fun ride and I would love to hear your opinions and constructive criticism about my writing so I can improve!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments feed my soul, especially now that the winter is upon us :D


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